


Hey, Hey What Can I Do

by PeakyFookinBlinders (Sherlocked729)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: A little OOC for Roger, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angry John, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Because I refuse to believe they didn't listen to each other, Best Friends Brian May and Roger Taylor, Deaky Is a Bit Not Good, Domestic Bandmates, Established Freddie's Homosexuality, F/M, Fluff, Freddie probably has too much self-esteem, Friends as Family, Hurt/Comfort, Led Zeppelin Song Mentions Throughout, Lots of drinking, M/M, Never Have I Ever, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Queen as Flatmates, Recreational Drug Use, Roger has low self-esteem, Roger the romantic, Self-Destruction, Set around 1977, Soft Boys, Talk of sex, Tea All The Time, Willing putting self in dangerous situations, homosexual as well as heterosexual, lots of F bombs, mention of suicide, oh hey I added Dominique
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-14 15:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked729/pseuds/PeakyFookinBlinders
Summary: The boys share a flat while two of them go to university. They feel they're as close as friends can be until things start happening with Roger and John that makes them question each other and their own abilities to handle it. **I'm sorry - I am really bad at summaries but I promise it's better than I'm explaining it!**





	1. attacked

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is my first Bohemian Rhapsody/Queen related fanfic so please try and be nice! If you have nothing nice to say, then don't comment at all, simply for my own sanity. 
> 
> In this fic, it's around 1977, Roger and Brian are going to classes not far from the shared flat they share with Freddie and John. I'm aware that this is probably not how it actually went with them, but it's fanfic, so relax. I'm entitled to some wiggle room ;) Also not a doctor so please don't try anything Roger might do in this fic! 
> 
> Title is taken from a Led Zeppelin song because I freakin' love both these bands.

**.     .     .**

 

“Would you like some tea, Freddie?”

The singer playfully rolled his eyes. “I told you half an hour ago that I would like some tea, darling,” he drawled, smirking amusedly.

“Oh, did you?” Roger asked, a playfulness in his own voice now. “Sorry, I can’t always hear you over the sound of your near constant demand for attention.”

The lead singer scoffed now, stretching out on the couch so he was facing his friend who was currently in the kitchen grabbing cups and putting tea bags in them.

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it, Roger? I don’t have a near constant need for attention. I just… appreciate when I have yours,” he winked at the younger man and put his arms out. “Sue me; I don’t want to be ignored.”

Roger smiled to himself, nodding in understanding. No one wanted to be ignored. More than anything, they wanted to be acknowledged, that _they_ mattered. He could understand that. He may not have believed that _he_ actually mattered but he did believe other people did, especially those he shared a flat with.

“Brian! John! Do you guys want some tea?” He called out to them, pouring water in two mugs for Freddie and himself. He waited but didn’t hear either of them shout an answer back so he grabbed two more mugs and poured tea for them as well.

They had only been living together for a short few months, but he felt like they all knew each other better than they knew themselves by now. There had been a dynamic shift in their friendship because now it felt more like they were family than friends. They still needed a bit more time to figure out each other’s’ complete idiosyncrasies, but they knew the important stuff; mostly, when something was “off” with one of them, what pissed all of them off, and most importantly, when to make tea for any of them.

“Poor dears… they were out all night.”

Roger glanced over at Freddie who was now sitting up. “ _You_ were out all night, weren’t you?”

“Maybe, darling, but I also don’t get completely pissed and saunter home at 3 in the morning,” Freddie sighed, taking the tea from Roger when he walked over with it. “Thank you, Rog.”

Roger smiled at him and then walked down the hall to Brian’s room. The flat itself was small, with only two bedrooms, but it wasn’t a huge problem for them. They split up, sleeping two in each room; Brian and Roger in one, and Freddie and John in the other. One night, Roger had brought someone home with him after a fun time at a local music club and Brian had willingly given up the room so Roger could use it.

The two of them had grown closer in three months than to the other members. They felt this connection neither of them felt with anyone else, and none of them would have had it any other way. Freddie and John didn’t feel like outsiders or anything like that. They understood their friendship, and moved on.

“I can’t believe you’re even awake right now, Bri… here,” he held out the cup of tea to which Brian pointed towards a nearby table as he sat on the floor, books sprawled out before him and the faint music of Led Zeppelin’s “Tangerine” playing softly in the room.

“Thanks, Rog. Just set it there,” Brian sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. “I’d be asleep still if I didn’t have this bloody test to study for.”

“What time is it at?”

Brian glanced at his watch. “In about an hour and a half, around 11:30.” He leaned over and grabbed the cup before sipping the warm liquid. He only seemed to notice that his friend was holding another one in his hand. “Good luck trying to wake Deaky up. He came home only ten minutes after me, and he didn’t look so good.”

This made the drummer tense up. “Didn’t look good, how exactly?”

Brian shrugged and looked back at his astrophysics book. “Like he drank way too much and he was going to be sick, I suppose. He didn’t say much. Just waved hello and went to his room.”

“Lovely, well… good luck with the test. Interested in going somewhere later for a drink?”

The idea appeared to relax the guitarist now and brightened him up. “Yeah, sure thing. Just us or do you want to bring Freddie along too? I don’t think John will feel up to going later.”

Roger shrugged, easygoing. “Whatever you want to do. I’ll ask Freddie if you want?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, okay. Ask him and let me know. Glad I at least have something to look forward to now,” he chuckled, tucking a curly lock of hair behind his ear to get it out of his face.  “Go away now. Need to study.”

Roger chuckled now and shook his head before he quietly exited the room and walked down the hall to John’s. He put his ear against the door to listen in and heard the other man inside throwing up in the bathroom. He knocked before he opened the door and walked inside, looking around.

The mostly closed curtains in the room made it appear dark, but there was a small patch of light that lit up the table beside the bed. He saw a mirror with the faint leftover remnants of white powder on it, making his stomach churn uncomfortably. He set the tea down next to it and moved into the bathroom where he saw John kneeling over a toilet and dry heaving into it, his hair askew.

Roger sighed. “Jesus Christ, please tell me you haven’t used recently, Deaky.”

The other man took a break and leaned against the bowl, looking up at his fellow band member. “I’ve cut back on it… I’m fine, Rog. Just… leave me alone.”

He didn’t like when John got like this; it wasn’t the first time. He had only started doing it a month ago when they were feeling the pressure to write and practice and be in sync with each other as much as possible. He had taken it at one of their first shows they did, right before, “for energy,” he had said only afterwards.

Then he crashed. John got agitated, angry, more like. He trashed his room and then slept all day and then next morning.

“Shit, John. At least tell me you’ve eaten in the past twenty-four hours.”

John glared up at him with a sarcastic look on his face. “You really think I’d be heaving up my lungs here if I had eaten anything? I’m not hungry anyway –"

“Yeah, because you’re poisoning your body with that shit, mate! You need to stop now, before you get worse.” Roger insisted, worry and concern bubbling inside of him. “I brought you some tea, and you should drink it.”

“Fuck off with your tea, Rog! I don’t want any bloody tea! Just leave me alone,” he sighed, holding his head. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Please.”

The ‘please’ made Roger’s heart sink into his stomach. It made his anger and frustration disappear, and he hated it. John was one of his best friends, regardless of the recent and experimental drug use, but he really knew how to manipulate him. Of course, that was also a trait of drug addicts so perhaps he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

Roger swallowed hard and leaned against the doorway of the bathroom and looked down at John. “Just… feel better soon. Come on out whenever you’re ready.”

John reluctantly nodded before he started dry heaving again. Roger’s guilt followed him out again, his head spinning.

“How are they, Rog? Still sleeping?”

Roger cleared his throat to snap himself out of it and lit a cigarette after placing one between his lips. “Bri’s studying for a test he has today, and John… he’s not feeling well. You should make sure he gets some food in him today. Oh, umm… Brian and I were thinking about going out later for a drink. Would you like to join us, Freddie?”

The singer appeared to think about it for a moment before he shrugged and shook his head. “Thank you for the invite, darling, but I better stay here with John and make sure he’s all right. Maybe next time?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, no problem, Fred. Hey, umm…”

Freddie looked concerned at Roger’s seriousness. “What is it?”

“I… I’m really worried about John. I mean, how long are we going to let him keep going like this? It’s not good for him to not eat anything or sleep all night, right? This isn’t good for gigs… or us.”

Freddie walked over to him and placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders gently. “Don’t worry about this, darling. I’ll take care of Deaky. We’ll wean him off of the terrible stuff slowly. I believe this is the only way we can help him at the moment.”

Roger nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Just… be careful around him, Freddie. He has a temper this morning.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Rog. I’ll take good care of him. Maybe I can even knock some sense into our bassist.”

“I should get to class,” Roger grabbed his bag by the couch in the living room before he shoved nearby books into it. “See you later, Fred.”

“Goodbye, Roger. See you later. Don’t you worry about a single thing.”

The drummer wanted to believe him, waving him goodbye, before he exited the flat. He threw his cigarette on the ground, stamped it out, and quickly hailed a cab to take him to the London School of Medicine and Dentistry. He rubbed his eyes tiredly before shoveling out a handful of pounds from his pocket for the ride, his mind still on his friend.

His anxiety was growing just thinking about what terrible shape John was in, and if he couldn’t pull himself together then Queen would be over before they could even truly start. He thought about Brian and felt himself relax a little at the thought of hanging out with just him later. They’d have a good time; they always had a good time together. He was excited about that.

**..  ..  .. .. …  ..  ….  ..  ….  ...**

It was about five when Roger had finished his classes, wondering if Brian was also done with his. He decided to take a cab to his friend’s university. It was spring right now but there was still the usual chill of London air present, the clouds overhead threatening to spill out rain soon.

When he arrived, he headed inside the main building where Brian had class and towards the library where he knew his bandmate would be studying away for his next test. He glanced around, moving towards the back where he saw a familiar head of curly hair sitting sideways in a plush chair, a thick textbook in his hands.

“All done?” Brian asked, straightening up in anticipation.

Roger chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, eager to leave?”

“You have no idea, mate. The bloody instructor didn’t even show up to my last class so I’ve just been sitting here for fucking _hours_!” He exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Roger watched as the other man stood up, shoved his book into his bag and then followed him out of the library out onto the street where they hailed a cab.

As the cab started towards the pub, Brian appeared to relax, leaning back and sighing before he appeared to remember something, and turned to look at Roger.

“Oh, so what’s the deal with Freddie and Deaky? Are they meeting us there or what?”

 _There_ was their usual music venue with a bar and a full room, about twenty-five minutes away from the flat, ten minutes from Brian’s university. Since they moved in together, they never went anywhere else, except for John; he had started going to a different place he wouldn’t tell them about.

 _“You wouldn’t like it,”_ was all he said about it. _“It’s just not your guys’ thing.”_

Roger shook his head. “John’s in a bad way right now and Freddie’s looking after him.” He grew quiet now, his mind going back to the scene he had walked in on earlier with their friend, a heavy silence now filling the cab.

Brian stiffened but looked at Brian, forcing eye contact with the male. “Hey, what’s going on? Is everything all right?”

He shrugged but then shook his head. “I’m just worried about Deaky. He’s being so fucking secretive, sneaking about, coming home so late… and that shit he’s putting up his nose,” he said almost bitterly. “We need to do something about him.”

“Well did you tell Freddie? What’d he say about it?”

_Of course he knew that Roger had told Fred about their friend. Roger could hardly keep his true feelings in about anything that bothered him._

“Yeah,” Roger scratched the side of his head distractedly. “He said he’d take care of him, that he’d help wean him off of it.”

“There you go, then. He’ll help him, then. Fred’s done it sometimes. He has experience in this field, mate.”

“He’s done it?” Rog parroted worriedly. “How do you know? He’s never done any cocaine around me!”

The cab stopped outside the music venue and the two men got out after Brian paid the cabbie. He looked at Roger shrugging. “I’ve seen him do a bit in the flat, but… not nearly to John’s extent. Just a line or two once a week.”

They entered the building, cigarette smoke billowing around the room, moving and shifting around all the bodies. It was the busiest that Roger had ever seen it in here tonight. It’s a shame that the others couldn’t be here.

“Want to try to go find us a table?” Brian leaned into Roger to make his voice heard over the loud music. “I’ll get us drinks.”

Roger nodded and made his way through the crowd of people and looked around. All the tables were full of people so he stood next to the stage against the wall near a table strategically. He made sure that Brian would be able to see him and pulled out another cigarette before lighting it.

He had almost finished it by the time Brian came over with two pints. “Sorry that took so fucking long. This place is a madhouse!” He glanced over at the nearby table and then looked at Roger before leaning in so he could be heard again.

“Planning on stealin’ that table when they get up?”  He asked, almost knowingly, a small smirk on his face.

Roger nodded, also smiling. He finished his cigarette and snubbed it out before he placing it in a nearby astray on the stage. He glanced over and watched the band that was playing rather in a rather lackluster manner. He gently nudged the other man and motioned for him to look at the band.

The band was standing in one place, looking bored as they strummed on their guitars and banged on their drums. The two men seemed to be on the same page because almost instantly, Brian started laughing in amusement before he shook his head in disbelief, taking a drink of his pint.

“Unbelievable. I mean, you’d think they’d have _some_ fun playing, right?” Brian asked rhetorically. “At least when I’m up there, all I do is have fun. Playing with my friends, songs I can believe in. These wankers are a joke.”

Roger nodded in agreement, taking a drink of his own beer before he saw everyone stand up at the table and leave. He nudged Brian before both of them quickly moved over and sat down across from each other at the table, leaving the nearby standers looking a bit miffed they didn’t get there first.

The night went on, the two of them buying each other drinks until they were nearly broke again (which didn’t take long). Brian hadn’t drank nearly as much as Roger but he was relaxed enough to declare their night out over.

“Nooo,” Roger protested, feeling sleepy and pleasantly drunk enough to temporarily forget about John’s current state.

“Come on, mate. I have class in ten hours. I’d like to get some sleep in before it,” Brian persisted, looking at the six pints in front of Roger compared to the three in front of himself. He felt at most, a bit tipsy, but his friend had basically been pounding them one right after the other.

“Then go home,” Roger shrugged. “I’m not ready yet.”

“No,” Brian said automatically. “I came here with you. I’m not leaving here without you, mate. I’m serious, though. Let’s _go,_ right now, all right?”

Roger sighed heavily but gave up. “Okay, fiiiine. Just let me take a piss first and we can go.”

“You’re so charming, Rog… I’ll meet you outside. I’m so hot in here.” He stood up and made his way through the dance floor and bar area.

Roger felt his head spinning as he staggered a bit to the restrooms, stopping short when he saw two men going at it roughly in an open stall. He chuckled to himself before he wandered over to a urinal and did his business. He had finished and zipped himself back up when he bumped into one of the guys who had been in the stall.

“You’re a nice looking bloke. Care to join us?”

Roger shook his head and put his hands up in a mock surrender. “No, thanks, mate. I’m good,” he turned around and started to wash his hands at the sink.

He felt the larger man come up from behind him and felt nauseous. He turned around and straightened his back, making an attempt to feel braver than he actually was in this moment. 

“Excuse me, I need to go meet my friend outside now.”

The man grabbed his shoulder before he grabbed Roger’s hair and smashed his face against the wall. Roger started coughing, tasting blood running down his throat and felt pain in his nose. He instinctively started to push against the man in resistance when he felt hands on his belt.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere, Blondie. It wasn’t an offer… you’re joining us.” The larger man started to unzip his pants.

The sudden intrusion sent blind panic shooting through him and his fight or flight mode kicked in, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Roger brought his head back sharply, breaking the nose of the stranger and the cry of alarm gave him time to scramble up onto his feet again before he started out of the bathroom quickly, his fingers numbly fumbling to zip himself and buckle himself back up again.

He felt hot tears race down his cheeks, gasping to catch his breath. He fixed his hair before wiping his face and cleared his throat. He needed to look like he wasn’t just almost sexually assaulted. He was stronger than to let it get to him. He needed to move past it.

_It didn’t happen. You got away. Get over it. It’s over now._

He pulled his shirt down but became aware that there was blood staining it. He wiped the blood under his nose before he glanced behind him and walked outside into the cool air where he saw Brian turning around.

“Oy! What the fuck happened to you in there?” He moved quickly over to Roger and looked him up and down. “Your nose is broken!”

Roger pinched the bridge of his nose. “I got into a fight with someone,” he lied quickly, searching Brian’s face, almost daring him to accuse him of lying.

He suddenly remembered a lesson in one of his basic first aid classes he had taken. Looked around and saw a poster in a clear display case against the brick wall and walked over to it.

“What are you doing, Rog? We need to get home!” He started to wave to nearby cabs.

Roger ignored him and focused on his face in the case. He made a triangle with both his hands, the finger pads touching each other before he placed the apex over his broken nose near the top. He let out a deep breath through his mouth and as he did this, he brought his hands straight down towards his chin, hearing a sharp _craacck_ sound, feeling his nose realign again.

“Fucking hell…”

Roger coughed a little bit of excess blood that had been in his nose but the job was done now. He turned to look at Brian.

“Not bad for being pissed, eh?”

“Not funny, Rog. Where does a dentist learn to fix broken noses?”

“I’m going to a University for Medicine and Dentistry. Key word, medicine. I took a semester of basic emergency first aid there.”

Brian looked conflicted at him. “What’d you say to make the other bloke angry?”

“I didn’t say anything, at first. He asked me if I fancied a shag and I told him to fuck off. He didn’t take too kindly to it,” Rog only half-lied now. At least it wasn’t too far off.

Brian sighed and finally hailed a cab over before he opened the door so Roger could get in first. The cab ride back home was uncomfortable and quiet, and Roger knew that he hadn’t fooled his best friend after all. He could feel the guitarist’s eyes piercing through him the whole way home but he didn’t know how he would know.

He had fixed himself up pretty well, he thought.

 _I guess you can only fool some of the people some of the time._ He sat quietly in the cab, his mind racing still as a heavy ache sat in his chest.

He had been sexually assaulted by a stranger, got a broken nose out of the ordeal, he was feeling panic shooting through his body still, and now he was lying to best mate.

This had been the worst day ever.


	2. intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the kudos, bookmarks and comments! I can't tell you much they mean to me <3 
> 
> I apologize for how long these chapters are, but I'm afraid if I don't make long chapters, then this fic will be like 100 chapters long. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

**.     .    .**

When they got back to their flat, Roger immediately started for the bathroom when he felt a firm hand clasp his arm, which made him wince and quickly hit Brian’s arm away to release him. When the guitarist saw him do this, he let go of him.

“I know you lied to me about what happened back there, but I’m going to let you tell me in your own time. I trust that you will, eventually, tell me?”

Roger swallowed hard, looking away from him. He was tempted to shake his head no but he couldn’t bring himself to. The two of them had a bond neither could shake. Instead he nodded reluctantly, unable to meet his friend’s eyes.

Brian had turned to head to their room but stopped and looked at him. “Hey, I’m always here if you need to talk or anything. If you need to yell and shout at me, I’m here. I’m your friend, and I’m whatever you need me to be, yeah?”

His words touched Roger and made him feel even guiltier about not telling him about the situation. He nodded again.

“Yeah, thanks, Bri. I’m fine, though,” he feigned a chuckle. “I’m just going to go clean myself up real quick. No need to be all sentimental, but I appreciate it, I suppose.”

Brian didn’t look amused. He looked frustrated, though. “Whatever, Rog. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Roger went down the hall to the bathroom and nearly bumped into Freddie coming out. He cringed when he heard Freddie’s cry of concern once he saw his friend’s face.

“Oh my God, what happened to you?! Are you all right, darling?”

Roger sighed and lightly tugged Freddie back into the bathroom and closed the door. Roger Taylor didn’t _get almost raped._ He didn’t rape anyone, of course, either but he told himself that he never allowed it to happen or almost happen to him either. He was much too strong for that. He turned on the shower and looked at Freddie.

“It’s nothing, Fred. I just… got into a fight is all. I’m fine, really.”

Freddie looked at him skeptically. “I _sincerely_ hope it was worth the broken nose, dear.” He grabbed a small towel and ran it under warm water before he started to wipe away the now dry blood.

Roger didn’t bother to stop him from fussing since he knew that Freddie was basically their mother hen, and he’d take care of all of them, one way or another. He sighed tiredly, his head still spinning from the action and the alcohol.  

“What time is it…?”

Fred looked at his watch. “It’s almost two.”

“Shit… you should get back to bed. I was just going to shower and then go to bed myself.”

Freddie finished dabbing at the blood and then glanced upwards before he rinsed the towel and held it on Roger’s skin.

_Damn it. He must have gotten cut from where the fucker had smashed his face into wall._

Roger flinched slightly at the pain. He was quiet before remembering something. “Did you talk to John? How’s he doing?”

Freddie’s face paled slightly and he shook his head. “I talked to him but he was really in no state to talk back, of course. I made him some soup and a sandwich, left it inside his room and came back, about half of both was gone, so he’s eating at least. He hasn’t spoken a word to me, however.”

Roger turned away from Freddie now before he took off his shirt, pulling back the shower curtain. “At least he’s eating.”

He unhooked his belt and pulled down his jeans before stepping out of them. He heard a gasp come out of Freddie but felt confused.

“Roger, darling! What on earth happened to you? Did someone hurt you…?”

Roger glanced back in the mirror and saw two large handprint shaped bruises forming on both of his sides. He swallowed hard and looked at Freddie almost fearfully, unable to lie about those, or rather, unable to come up with a good lie. “Freddie, please don’t tell any of the guys about it. I’m fine, really. It doesn’t even hurt.”

“I was just going to ask if he was a good lay, but… if something _did_ happen to you earlier, you really need to talk about it. I know you and Brian are close, but… you don’t have to tell him about it if you feel uncomfortable,” Freddie suggested.

Roger ran his hands through his hair and looked at him. “Thanks, Fred, but… I’m fine. Really. Like I said, they don’t even hurt. I must have just… ran into something. I’ve had quite a few.”

Freddie looked hesitant and there was no way he was buying any of that but he didn’t say anything. He searched Roger’s face. “A-All right, then. I won’t push. I’m around if you want to talk, though. I promise I’m a good listener.”

Roger nodded curtly. “Right, thanks, Freddie. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to shower so… please get out.”

“As you wish, Rog.” Freddie stepped out of bathroom and Roger waited until he heard footsteps go down the hall before he locked the door.

It was a communal bathroom so he’d have to hurry up. He stepped into the shower and started to wash his body, still feeling that goddamn asshole’s fingers still on his skin. He could still feel him trying to pull his jeans down, and then the panic he felt.

_Fuck. The goddamn sheer panic he felt…_

The same panic started to edge into his chest again, curling around his lungs tightly. He gasped, feeling like the air was being sucked out of his lungs. He didn’t want to rip the curtain off the hooks, lest he receive backlash by Freddie, so he just slid down into the tub against the wall, closing his eyes.

_Flashes of the stranger’s meaty hands. His sick scent of sweat and alcohol._

Don’t close your eyes.

He reluctantly opened them again, still gasping for air, still panicking. He wrapped his wet arms around himself, digging his nails into his arms simultaneously, just to feel something other than _his_ hands.

Then there was a knock before he heard the turn of the knob. Then another knock, this time a bit harder.

“Rog! You in there? There are other people in this house that need to get in there too, you know! You can’t just bloody lock the door when you want a shower!”

_John._

He couldn’t deny that it felt good to hear his voice again, albeit it be somewhat frustrated, but John was still talking. That had to be a good sign. Somehow, hearing him calmed him down. Most accurately, though, hearing his yelling distracted him from his panic long enough for him to catch his breath.

He coughed a little before he heard John knock again. “Yeah, yeah! Give me a damn minute, John! I’ll be out in a minute!”

“What the hell are you doing locking this _fucking_ door? We never lock the doors around here!”

Roger climbed out of the tub and started drying himself off before he wrapped the towel around his waist and unlocked the door to face him. “Well, maybe we should.”

He moved to move past John when the bassist suddenly put his arm out to block him from leaving. His eyes trailed to Roger’s face. “What the hell happened to you then, Roger?”

“Got into a fight. You should see the other guy,” Roger replied quickly, not looking at him. “Good to see you up and about, though, Deaky. Can you please move your arm now before I have to resort to cutting it off so I can go get dressed?”

John looked at him suspiciously before he let his arm drop and switched places with Roger. He walked quickly down the hall to the room he shared with Brian. The man was in bed but he was reading a textbook.

“Was that John I heard a second ago?”

“Yup,” Roger dropped the towel and got changed into a Led Zeppelin shirt and sweatpants before he crawled into the bed on the other side of Brian. “Good to see him not being sick. Just wish he’d relax a bit. We should make him come out with us. Maybe it’ll pop himself back into place.”

“No offense, Rog but I doubt it. I think if anything, it’ll be worse for Deaky, having him have a drink with us.”

“How do you figure?” Roger asked, getting comfy into bed, but turned to look at the other man.

“The same way that we like to smoke when we drink. He probably associates going out, having a drink, with… taking hard drugs. It’s like… a trigger, yeah?”

“Ah,” Roger nodded now, understanding. “Well, I guess we shouldn’t allow him to come with us again. Is this our fault, Bri? I mean, did we get him hooked by taking him out in the first place?”

Brian looked over at him, his eyes soft. He shook his head before he closed his book and set it on the table. He turned around to look at Roger.

“This isn’t our fault, Roger. I love John as much as anyone in this flat, but he made the conscious decision to try it. He didn’t have to. He could have just walked away when he was being offered it, but he didn’t choose that,” Brian explained softly. “This isn’t your fault, but we just need to get him clean again.”

“Yeah, I’m going to talk to Freddie again about it tomorrow,” Roger said more to himself before he closed his eyes.

He could still feel Brian’s eyes on him and he knew what exactly he was staring at. “It’s going to heal, Bri. Please stop looking at me like I’m going to explode any second.”

Brian sighed and shut the light off. “Goodnight, Rog.”

“Night, Brian.”

 

**… …  … ….  … … ….. …. .. ….**

Roger woke up the next morning to yelling and the sound of things being thrown against the wall. He glanced beside him but didn’t see Brian.

Had he gone to class early to study? It wouldn’t be totally uncharacteristic of him but it was still odd. He rolled painfully out of bed (he forgot about the bruises on his waist that he could feel all too much now), and hurried down the hall to see Freddie standing outside of John’s door, looking impatient and tired.

“What’s going on?”

Freddie glanced at the cuts on Roger’s face but then looked him in the eyes. “Brian went in there about ten minutes ago, looking for more _cocaine_. Once John caught onto what was going on, he wasn’t happy, to say the least,” he knocked on the closed door. “Deaky, darling… please don’t be angry at Brian! He cares about you… we all do.”

“Bullshit!” The angry voice came from inside the room before another hard _thud._ “Brian! Get out of my bloody room!”

The door suddenly opened now and Brian was backing up, his hands up. “Fine! Fine, John! Just relax, will you? _Jesus Christ!”_

John walked to the entryway of the door and glared at them, dark circles under his eyes. “I need to rest up today so we can play our gig tomorrow night. Don’t bother me, any of you! Unless you don’t want a bassist at the gig…”

Before any of them could say anything, John slammed the door before they heard him lock it as well. They all exchanged looks with each other before Brian threw his arms up.

“I can’t deal with this right now! I’m going to class.”

“Have fun, darling. We’ll see you later. Did you want to do anything tonight?” Freddie asked softly.

Brian sighed but he gave Freddie a weak smile. “I think I had all the fun I could stand last night. See you all later.” He walked out of the flat, gently closing the door behind him.

“How are you doing, Rog?”

The drummer sighed, shaking his head. He swallowed hard. “I’m all right. Can I ask you a question though, Freddie?”

“Anything, darling. You know that.”

“Have you done cocaine before, Fred? You know, what John’s doing. Have you done it too? I’m not going to judge you or anything,” he added quickly, seeing his friend’s hesitant look. “I’m not going to hold it against you. I just… was curious.”

“If you really must know, yes; I have done it twice before. I don’t do nearly as much as John is doing, of course, but I digress. Anyway…” Freddie looked almost ashamed because then he added, “Not on gig nights or anything, you must understand. Only when… I’m with someone. It increases my stamina and… it feels quite nice, to be honest, in the moment. It… enhances the experience.”

Roger nodded, taking this in. He sat down at the small kitchen table before he looked down. “I… don’t know how to help him, Freddie. I don’t like how angry he is all the time. I want the old John back.”

He knew he sounded pathetic and small, but it matched how he was feeling. He _did_ feel pathetic and he _did_ feel small. He felt so fucking helpless and he couldn’t stand it. He wanted solutions. He wanted to help his friend.

Freddie popped some bread into the toaster and grabbed the butter before he leaned against the counter, putting his arm on it as he looked at Roger. “I thought about it late last night, Rog. I believe we should give him an ultimatum.”

“An ultimatum?” Roger looked up at him. “What’s that?”

“We give him a choice, that wouldn’t really be a choice. We make him choose one, because he won’t be able to have both; the drugs or the band. We keep an eye on him when we go out with him for drinks. We don’t let him out of our sight. The second he tells us he wants to leave because he feels the urge to buy or use, or whatever, then we leave, no questions asked.”

Roger straightened and for the first time this week, he felt hope. He knew that this was the solution. This was what he needed, no, what John needed. They’d make sure it worked. It had to. “What about weaning him off?”

“Oh, we’ll still do that. With how he’s been acting, I believe that his supply has run out. We’ll use mine for the weaning. Does this make you feel a little better now, darling?”

Roger nodded and breathed a half sigh of relief; one less thing he’d have to worry about. “Y-Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Freddie. When do you want to tell him?”

“Tonight, when Brian comes back. He can talk sense into John if worse comes to worst. Now, let’s talk about you, Roger.”

“Let’s not, Fred.”

“Oh, wait. What time is it? Don’t you need to go to class as well?”

“Not going today. Taking a three day weekend,” he heard his toast pop up and saw Freddie turn around and started to butter it before he put it on a plate and placed it in front of Roger. “Also not hungry.”

“You can’t go without eating, Rog. We need our drummer his best for tomorrow. Now eat! Please,” Freddie urged. “Eat before you simply waste away.”

It was the truth, though. Roger really didn’t feel hungry. His appetite was gone, along with a couple of vital things mentally and psychologically. He rubbed his eyes tiredly before he pushed the plate towards Freddie.

“Thank you, Freddie, but really, I’m not hungry. You can have it. I’m just really exhausted. I think I’m going to go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure, darling? We can do something together. Let’s write! Let’s write some music, shall we, Rog?”

“No, Freddie,” Roger urged, a bit firmer as he stood up. “Not today. Another day.” He shoved his chair back in and headed back to Brian’s room, closing the door.

He turned the record player on and started the Zeppelin album that Brian had been playing yesterday from the beginning from “Gallows Pole.” Roger crawled back into the bed but lay on Brian’s side before he hugged his pillow to his chest, breathing in the guitarist’s smell.

It didn’t smell anything like That Man last night. He closed his eyes and pulled the sheets close to his body before he shut his eyes again, letting the music lull him to sleep.

He must have slept all day because when he woke up, he saw Brian sitting on the floor, lighting a cigarette. He must have flipped the record over when he got home because now “Since I’ve Been Loving You” was playing.

He groaned groggily and then uncovered himself only to see blood making thin trails down his arms. He had dug his fingernails into his palms and now the blood was running down. He sighed before he walked quickly out of Brian’s room and into the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door this time as he quickly washed his hands and applied antiseptic to the skin on both his palms.

He grabbed gauze and wrapped it a few times around each palm, cutting it off with his teeth when he needed to. He went back into Brian’s room before he took the cigarette out of Brian’s mouth and put it between his own lips, taking a long drag.

“So you stayed here all day and slept? Too hungover from last night? Or… too sore?”

Roger tensed and spun around. “What do you mean by that, about being too sore?” He took another long drag before he blew out the smoke.

Brian took the cigarette back from him, his eyebrows raised. “I don’t know. What do you think I mean by it?” He tested.

“Because of the fight. I’m not too hungover but I’m sore from the fight, obviously.”

“Oh yeah,” Brian nodded. “Obviously.” There was sarcasm laced in his voice.

Roger felt guilty keeping this from Brian, but he kept telling himself that it wasn’t worth talking about. He hadn’t actually been raped. It had been close but his pain didn’t compare to those poor souls who were actually raped. His pain didn’t matter.

He decided to change the subject. “Freddie wants us to basically have an intervention with John tonight. He wants you to be there so… are you ready?”

Brian glanced up at him, unsure, but nodded and stood up. “I guess so.  What’s his plan?”

“You’ll see. He told me about it this morning after you left. I really think it’ll work.” He led them to John’s room and saw Freddie already waiting patiently there, but Roger saw nervousness on his face.

“Ready, boys?” He smiled playfully to ease the anxious situation.

Roger and Brian both nodded and Freddie knocked on the door before turning the knob. Surprisingly, it opened willingly and John was inside the room, quickly sniffing. He looked angry when he saw his bandmates walk inside, his pupils dilated.

_Great, he was still high._

Brian closed the door behind them so John couldn’t escape the intervention. Freddie was the first to speak.

“Deaky, darling. We’ve put up with this behavior long enough. I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to stop with this nonsense, right now. We simply won’t put up with it any longer,” he spoke confidently, firmly.

John was pacing slightly and let out a snort of amusement before he shook his head. “This nonsense… this whole band is a joke! You all are hypocrites!”

Roger glanced over at Brian who looked back at him before looking back at John.

“Can you explain, mate? Maybe we can work it out.”

“We can’t work it out this time, Brian. We just can’t. I’m sick of this bullshit! You have an extremely high opinion of yourself, to begin with! Like you’re the king of this bloody band. Like you stand up there and rule over us…” John had beads of sweat on his face and neck, even though the room felt chilly.

That had to be the drugs’ doing.

Freddie stepped closer to John slowly. “What about me, John? How am I a hypocrite?”

“You! You’re the biggest hypocrite of them all! You’re in here to stop my drug using but you use it too! You told me you used it! All I had to do was watch you at these places and I _watched_ you buy!”

“You learned it by watching me, really, darling?’ Freddie asked, rolling his eyes.

“No, no. I’m just saying that you couldn’t be a bigger hypocrite if you tried! You have no right to come into my room and tell me that this has gone on long enough. You’re full of it! All of you are!” John laughed humorlessly. “All of you can piss off for tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow in time for the gig!” He pushed himself through his friends but Brian stopped him.

He basically towered over the bassist, looking down at him with calm, sympathetic eyes, standing firm in front of the door. “Come on, mate. This isn’t you. This isn’t how you are. The drugs are changing you, for the worse, John. Just… stay, and hear us out. Then, if you still want to, you can leave.”

“Oy, this’ll be good. Well, let’s hear it then.” He stood challengingly in front of Brian still, his jaw clenched.

Roger could see his jaw muscles move. _He was grinding his teeth._ Maybe he was in worse shape than any of them even thought.

It was Freddie who spoke up again. He turned to face John. “John, we decided that you are going to be forced to have an ultimatum. You have to pick one or the other, because we simply cannot do this anymore with you. You are a liability. We love you like a brother, and I truly am sorry, but this behavior cannot continue,”

John’s smugness lessened, which seemed like a good sign, so Freddie continued.

“You must choose, John. You must choose, your drugs or the band. If you choose the band, we’ll help you wean off this… shit. We’ll be here for you, no matter what you need us to do. When we go out to drink together, if you feel the urge to use or buy, tell one of us, and we’ll leave straight away, no more questions asked. We’ll come home, watch a movie, and move on. However, if you choose the drugs, then… I’m sorry, but… you cannot be our bassist for Queen anymore. Your behavior has been tremulous this whole week, and vastly disruptive, and it is not the John we have come to know and love. It simply isn’t you, darling.”

Fear spread over John’s face and Roger watched as he walked over and sat down on his bed, running his thin fingers through his oily hair. He swallowed hard before he looked over at Freddie.

“What will you without me?” John asked, defiantly. “You’re no one without me. You need a bassist or Queen is dead!”

“Darling,” Freddie spoke, shaking his head surely. “We’ll find a bassist once they hear my vocals. No one will ever be able to take your place as our friend, and brother, but as a bassist, there is no doubt we will find someone else. You’re not indispensable. If you choose the drugs, then you’ll be asked to pack your things, and leave this flat by the morning.”

“So that’s it, then? I have to choose the band or risk being homeless? You bastard…” he shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s not an entirely difficult choice to make, is it, John?” Brian asked softly, not wanting to see his friend leave. “Come on, mate. Stay… please. Choose us. Choose life. We’ll help you and we can go back to how we were.”

He swallowed hard, his stoic façade now weakening. He was quiet for a long time before he searched their faces. “Can I at least have time to think about it?”

Freddie tongued his cheek in irritation but he nodded. “All right, Deaky. You can have until after our gig tomorrow night to decide, but we can’t have a bassist completely off his ass. How much have you been using each other lately?”

“Just two lines lately…” John looked at Brian and Roger in confusion before looking at Freddie.

“Where is it? Where’s your stash?” Freddie started pulling out drawers, feeling underneath each other as well.

John looked confused and unsure at first but then walked over to his bed and reached under the mattress before he pulled out a small baggie with only a quarter of the white substance inside of it. He handed it over reluctantly to Freddie.

He eyed it. “Okay, John. You can use what’s left in here before you’re completely done with this garbage, so I suppose you better ration it. You can use this for the gig tomorrow, but just this. We’ll be watching you too so we’ll know if you buy more.”

John sighed heavily and took the baggie back from him. He nodded in agreement. “Fine, then.”

Freddie nodded. “If you come to the gig completely wasted, don’t even bother coming. At that point, you’ve made your decision. Understood?”

John nodded and in this moment, Roger recognized him more like the John he knew before whoever got into his head and offered him this junk.

“Wonderful. Have a lovely night, Deaky,” Freddie became his lighthearted self again. “See you tomorrow.”

“Night, Freddie.” John looked at the floor, holding the baggie in his hands.

Roger and Brian followed Freddie out, closing the door behind them. “Do you think it worked?”

Brian led him towards the bedroom. “We’ll find out.”

The two men crawled back into bed but Roger let his back rest comfortably against his friend’s back. He felt Brian tense at the touch at first, but then quickly relaxed again.

“Are you okay, Rog?” His voice was tired, but also sympathetic, maybe even a bit fearful.

He didn’t want to lie anymore. “No, but… I’m hoping I will be soon.”

Silence for a few minutes.

“I’m here when you want to talk about it.”

“I know, Bri. I know.”


	3. confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so 3 things:
> 
> \- SUBSCRIBE if you want to know when my chapters come out lest ye be behind! 
> 
> \- I did some research, and I found out that Queen actually did a few covers of Led Zeppelin. One of them being "Communication Breakdown" (that: SPOILER ALERT you'll see in the next chapter), and another one being "Immigrant Song" in 1986 at one of their concerts, just for all you fellow Led Zeppelin nerds out there, haha.
> 
> \- THANK YOU THANK YOU for the comments so far, as well as the kudos and bookmarking! I'm really honored considering this is my first Bohemian Rhapsody fanfic! So thank you again! 
> 
> Okay, I'm done talking now.

**.     .     .**

The next morning, Roger awoke abruptly from a nightmare. The Man had been there, _touching_ him, undoing his belt, _groping at his skin…_

He felt his stomach churn again, and jumped out of bed, ran down the hall and barely made it as he emptied his stomach into the toilet, thanking God that no one had been in the bathroom at the time.  He coughed before he finished and flushed, sitting against the bathroom cabinet to catch his breath. He ran his hand through his hair and then heard footsteps.

He hurried onto his feet and stood up again, starting to brush his teeth to get rid of the nasty taste in his mouth. A minute later he was met with John’s face looking at him in the mirror, looking antsy and anxious. Roger spit the toothpaste into the sink and set his brush down before he met his eyes in the mirror.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just…” he clenched and unclenched his hands several times. “I need help with something. Will you help me, Rog?”

He blinked a couple times in surprise but nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He turned around and let the bassist lead him towards the kitchen.

Glancing around, he was surprised not to see anyone else but assumed they were resting before their gig later. Since it was Saturday, none of them had classes, thankfully.

“I was able to make the coffee but… my… my hands are shaking so horribly that I can’t pour it without fucking spilling it everywhere,” John explained, showing Roger the spilled coffee near his mug.

“Ah, all right. No problem,” Roger grabbed a few paper towels and wiped up the mess before wiping the cup, twisting it a couple times on the paper towels, and then poured the coffee for John before setting it in front of him. “There you are, mate.”

John looked ashamed as he used both hands to take a sip of his coffee before putting it back down carefully. “T-Thanks, Roger.”

“Are you hungry? I can make something?”

The other man shook his head. “No, no thanks. I’m not hungry.”

Roger sat down on the other side of him, watching him. “Did you use any yet today?”

“No, not yet. I am… I’m trying to save it for… for lunch, as it were,” he chuckled grimly but stopped when he noticed that his friend wasn’t laughing along. “I figure that’ll take me up to our gig time, and then I’ll… I’ll take the last of my stash then.”

Roger looked down at the table. He knew he should eat something but he just didn’t have an appetite. He hadn’t either in a couple days though, and he could feel a dull ache in his head. He looked at him for a long time.

“I’m proud, of what you agreed to do, you know? I know you have until tonight after the gig to figure out what you’re going to choose but, I’m proud of you for agreeing to the terms instead of just… storming out last night.”

John looked touched at the words and nodded in acknowledgement. “Yeah, well… you guys need me later so…”

There was teasing in his voice when he said this, causing Roger to smirk. “You need us too, little John.” He stood up and playfully messed up the younger man’s hair. “Remind me where the gig is at again?”

John looked at Roger in disbelief now after taking another drink. “You’re kidding, Rog! It’s our place.  The usual place, nay, the only place, that will actually hire us to play so far! It’s _our_ place.”

Roger swallowed hard now, holding onto the counter tightly to stop himself from falling to his knees, his legs feeling like jelly. He took a quick breath and closed his eyes. They were going to play in the same place he had almost been raped.

Christ, did he hate using that word.

He exhaled slowly through his mouth, his head spinning. _What if The Man was there again? What if he finished the job this time?_

“Rog? Are you okay, mate?”

Roger nodded, not trusting his voice but knew he had to talk. “Y-Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. I just… I just wondered. Umm… I’ll be back in a second, I just… need some air.”

“Oh sure, that’s not suspicious at all. See you shortly, I guess.” John continued to sip his coffee before he walked over to the record player in the living room and set the needle to the B-side of “Hey, Hey What Can I Do” before he sat down beside it and drank his coffee, looking more calm and at peace than any of the boys had seen him since he started taking drugs.

The song seemed appropriate for Roger as he grabbed his cigarettes off the counter and stuck one between his lips before lighting it outside, closing the door behind him. He relaxed slightly but he felt tears in his eyes and rubbed at them hard as they fell. He took another quick drag.

What the hell was he going to do? This was a bloody nightmare come to life. Then again, what were the odds that asshole was going to be there again? He didn’t know how much he and his partner went there; he hadn’t seen them before. Maybe they had just been in town for the night.

Hopefully that was the case.

He was too into his own thoughts that he jumped when the door opened, out walking Brian with a cigarette in between his own lips, only half dressed in pants, his hair messy.

“You all right, Rog?” He asked evenly, eyeing him.

Roger sighed, shaking his head and felt more tears suddenly falling before he could stop them. He took another drag from the cigarette before he put it out under his shoe on the ground. “N-No,” he confessed. “No, I… I am not… all r-right.”

Brian stiffened and immediately put out his cigarette before turning to the other man. He put his hands on his shoulders and searched his face. “Hey, hey. What is it, Roger? What’s wrong?”

Roger tried to collect himself, continuing to shake his head. “I can’t… I can’t put all my bullshit on your shoulders. Not right before this gig t-tonight. I just can’t. I… won’t.” He wiped his face furiously, angry that he was crying so openly.

_Baby. He didn’t have any right to cry. Nothing had happened to him. At least nothing that actually mattered. He had escaped; he had gotten away._

Brian looked conflicted now but he shook his head. “Whatever you’re carrying on your shoulders is too much, Rog. You need to put it on mine. I promise it won’t affect this gig. I can compartmentalize it, as it were.

Roger let out a weak chuckle now through his sobs. “W-What, did you take a psychology class during your astrophysics education?”

Brian smirked and shrugged. “As a matter of fact, yes. My first semester ever at university. So? How ‘bout it? What’s on your mind, mate?” He lit a fresh cigarette before taking a drag off it, watching Roger.

It was too late now to force him to drop it. Roger had let himself fall apart in front of his friend and now he had to tell him the truth. He couldn’t hide it from him any longer.

_Fuck._

“Umm… when we were having drinks the other night and you went to meet me outside… I had gone to the gents, right? Well, I… did my business and I was washing my hands and… t-this guy walked up to me,” Roger could hear the tremble in his voice and now he avoided Brian’s eyes that were staring at him intently.

“He had his… lover there with him and… he asked if I cared to join them. I politely declined but… h-he umm… he didn’t want to take no for an answer. H-He said… it wasn’t actually a choice and… I struggled against him but… he… he smashed my head into the wall to try and knock me out, I suppose,” he swallowed hard, taking a shaky breath as he replayed the scene in his head. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Fucking Christ…” Brian swore, taking a long drag off his cigarette before stamping it out on the ground.

Roger tensed, thinking that his friend was angry at him for this confrontation. “S-So, this guy… he knocked me down and… starting fumbling for my belt and unhooked it before he grabbed my pants and started to… t-to try to pull down. I… uhh… I brought my head back really hard and… I h-heard this crunching sound, like I broke his nose. He cried out in pain and… I-I took the chance to make it out of there. Then I met back up with you outside.”

He finally dared to meet Brian’s eyes and was surprised to see a wave of sympathy wash over it, tears in his own eyes now. He didn’t think he had ever seen Brian like this before, and it almost scared him to see him like this now. Roger searched the guitarist’s face hesitantly.

“Bri… a-are you all right, mate? What is it?”

The taller man shook his head before he pinched the bridge of his nose before wiping his eyes, shaking his head. “I j-just… can’t fucking believe it. I mean, I do. I believe you’re telling the truth but… _fuck_ , Rog. That’s some heavy shit to be carrying on your shoulders, yeah? Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why didn’t you tell me that night?”

Roger shrugged before scoffing. “Because it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing happened.”

Brian’s eyes widened. “‘Nothing happened’? Bullshit, Roger! You were attacked! You were almost… almost r-raped…” It was Brian’s voice that was shaking now.

The drummer looked at him in surprise to see Brian so shaken up. “Yeah, _almost_. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to _me_ , Bri. I mean, it can’t happen to me. It just… can’t, you know?”

Brian turned to face him now. “No! I don’t bloody know. It can’t happen to you? Who the hell do you think you are, the actual bloody Queen of England? Of course it can happen to you. Mate, it almost did! Christ, Rog!”

Roger tensed at his yelling, taking a step back, afraid that Brian might try to deck him for being so arrogant. The other man saw his fear though and took a deep breath before he relaxed again.

“I’m sorry… I’m not angry at you. Just… that fucking fucker who tried that with you. Shit, no wonder you’re not all that excited about tonight’s gig. You’re worried he’ll be there again, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, though. It was more of a statement.

Roger reluctantly nodded, finally meeting his friend’s eyes. “I’m just afraid of… running into him again. I can’t go through that again. Every time I even think about what happened the other night, I get these fucking panic attacks, like. I can’t _breathe._ A-And I’ve been having nightmares about it too. This shit just… won’t stop. F-Fuck…”

He hadn’t meant for everything to come tumbling out like that but he couldn’t stop himself in time. He felt warm tears in his eyes again and let out a soft sob. It was like the dam of all his emotions he’d been trying to hold in these past few days was suddenly just bursting. He looked away now, ashamed of his tears and crying in front of Brian, a man that he admired.

Before he knew what was happening, Brian had moved closer to him and suddenly hugged him. The touch felt warm and welcoming and Roger let himself relax in the man’s arms. He hugged him back before wondering how ridiculous the two of them looked right now. After a beat, he gently moved away from him.

“T-Thank you, Bri… I-I’m sorry, by the way. I… I didn’t want to lay all of that on you like that at o-once.”

Brian shook his head before he put his hands softly on Roger’s shoulders again. “You have no reason to apologize, mate. I told you I’m here for you, and I meant it.” When Roger nodded, then he spoke again. “Have… you told the other guys about it yet?”

Roger felt his heart skip a beat now and shook his head before looking at him pleadingly. “No, no. I-I’m not really ready to tell them yet about it. Not when John’s going through his own shit right now. I don’t want to… make it look like I’m trying to one-up him or anything. Don’t tell them, all right, Brian? Please.”

Brian looked hesitant but he nodded. “Okay, Rog, but… eventually you’ll have to tell them something, especially if they see you like this one day.”

“W-Why? Nothing even happened. It doesn’t matter.”

“You were still put in an intensely fucked up situation that no one should have to be in. You got lucky enough to escape from him, Roger,” Brian said seriously. “If you hadn’t, then… this would be an entirely different conversation right now. Being put in that situation still messes with a person, though. It doesn’t make what happened to you any less fucked up. You’re still allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling. You’re allowed to feel scared or angry or whatever. Just because it didn’t go all the way that night doesn’t mean it couldn’t have.”

Roger listened to his words and felt an odd sense of validation. What he said obviously made sense, but there was another part of him that felt like he didn’t deserve any of it. He didn’t deserve to feel bad about it.

“Thank you, Bri, really. I… I appreciate everything, and… thanks for agreeing to not tell the others yet. I’ll tell them, in my own time.” Roger didn’t know if he had just lied to him but he just wanted this conversation to end before he ended up a sodding mess again.

Brian seemed to take the hint. “Yeah, okay then. Ready to head back inside? It looks like it’s going to start pouring any minute.”

Roger nodded and wiped his face on last time before he took a breath and led them both back inside where Freddie was in the kitchen, eating an omelet and drinking coffee.

“I suppose that’s the last of the coffee, Fred?” Brian asked with dismay before he sat down at the table. Roger did the same.

Freddie smiled mischievously. “Should’ve grabbed it before me, I suppose then, darling,” he stood up. “I’ll make you both some tea instead.”

Brian seemed to enjoy the sound of that. “Yeah, that’d be great, Freddie. Thanks.”

“No problem at all, Brian,” he filled the kettle up with water before setting it on a burner and turning the stove on. He turned around to face them. “Everything all good between you two or do I have to put you in a time out?”

This made Roger chuckle, shaking his head. “We’re good, Fred. Really. We were just… talking about John,” he lied before adding, “Where is he, by the way? I left him in the kitchen earlier with coffee.”

Freddie looked at him curiously. “I believe he might be in your room, actually. I’m unsure what he’s doing in there but at least it’s not drugs.”

“I’ll go and check after the tea’s done,” Brian announced. He cleared his throat and looked at Freddie. “How are you feeling about tonight’s gig?”

Freddie grinned. “Marvelous, Brian, dear. I’m really excited about it! Our audience has been getting bigger and bigger; maybe tonight we’ll start moving on up in the world…” he winked playfully at them.

Roger smiled weakly back at him, his mind elsewhere.

“How are you feeling about it?” Freddie suddenly asked.

“Also excited,” Brian answered. “Tonight’ll be fun.”

“Oh, no offense, darling, but I was asking Roger. I know _you’re_ excited about it, Brian. So, Roger? Thoughts? Feelings? You’ve been terribly quiet lately.”

Roger turned his attention to Freddie and nodded. “Yeah, should be great,” he agreed. “Sorry, Fred. I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well.”

Freddie’s face seemed to fall and pale before he nearly jumped hearing the kettle start screaming. He quickly shut it off and made up tea for Roger and Brian before handing them both hot mugs. Brian waved at them before he disappeared towards his room to look or John, leaving Roger alone with the lead singer.

He wrapped his hands around the mug, perhaps for encouragement or bravery or comfort, maybe all the above. He looked down into it for a long time, feeling the tension between him and Freddie.

“Something happened to you, didn’t it, the other night?”

The correct accusation made Roger look up at him and felt fear building up inside of him. “What? No… no. Nothing, except… you know, the fight.”

“Right,” Freddie nodded, his voice far away. “The fight. Granted I wasn’t there, but usually if you get into a fight, your knuckles are bleeding, yeah? I don’t believe yours were, were they?”

“Well, umm… I told you, I brought my head back and broke his nose,” he reminded him.

“Ohh, right… so he was behind you, was he, Rog? Yes, I see now. That also would explain the bruises on your sides as well, wouldn’t it?” Freddie’s voice wasn’t angry, but it was still dangerous. He knew what had happened to him, but he wanted Roger to tell him.

“Freddie… please don’t.”

The singer scoffed, his eyes widening. “Don’t what, Roger? I’m just trying to figure everything out, that’s all. Not like I would know anything at all about being… forced or… pressured to do something with someone,” he replied sarcastically.

Roger tensed now, gripping the mug. “What are you getting at, Freddie?” He asked, almost angrily. This was _his_ secret and he’d be damned if he was going to let the other two band members figure out the truth on their own.

Freddie shook his head, changing his tone to a softer one. “I’m sorry, darling. I won’t pretend to know what exactly happened to you the other night, but… you don’t get those hand shaped bruises from a fist fight. You get them from other things. I don’t know what happened but… all I can do is assume that you were not a willing participate that night. If that’s the case, however, then… I believe we have some talking to do, you and I. Maybe I can… answer some of your questions?” Freddie shook his head, waving his hand dismissively now. “I’m sorry, Roger. I just care about you so much and… I hate not knowing what’s happened to one of my best friends. I won’t tell John, though, if you aren’t ready.”

Roger swallowed back the lump in his throat. He searched Freddie’s face and sighed. “I’ll tell you once we get John all better again, okay? I promise I’ll tell you about that night. I just… can’t talk about it anymore for now.”

Freddie nodded in understanding but pursed his lips hesitantly before he spoke. “You know that our gig is going to be at this same place that you might’ve been... attacked, right? You _are_ aware, Rog?” His eyes looked sad and regretful.

Roger took a sip of his tea and nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware. I don’t like that but… this gig is important. I know that.”

Freddie nodded and rested his chin on his hand, looking at Roger. “You can do this, darling. Not just for me, or the band, but… for all of us, you included. For our little… family. I believe in you.”

This made Roger smile a genuine smile now and he nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, Fred. I needed to hear that. I believe in you and the others too.”

Freddie grinned again. “That’s simply wonderful, darling. Thank you so much. I’m going to go take a short nap before we have to leave later.”

“Okay, Freddie. See you later.” Roger watched him walk down the hall into the room he shared with John before he closed the door. He stood up with his tea and headed to Brian’s room.

He walked inside to see both men watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail on the telly that all of them moved around the house so they could watch shows and movies on. Brian and John were laying on the floor, John’s foot moving at a constant speed. Brian glanced up and immediately pulled Roger down to lay on the other side of him.

Roger laughed and grabbed the leftover pillows from the bed before putting them down on the floor and laid down on his back. It was good to see John willing to be around them again and that the ultimatum actually worked. He could tell John was still suffering a bit, but he knew the three of them could pull him through this.

He smiled to himself, moving his head to Brian’s stomach so he could get a better view of the television. The other man didn’t object as he continued to watch the movie, and Roger felt relaxed. He felt like he could get through anything with all of them together.

Tonight would be a true test for him, though.


	4. panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter contains a panic attack and minor talk of suicide.

**.     .     .**

The guys walked inside the smoky venue that they had regularly been playing in for the last five months, but Roger Taylor was not thinking about that. He wasn’t thinking about how this gig could help make or break them, gain them more fans, or bring them closer together as a band, and as a family. He also wasn’t thinking about how dry his mouth felt, or how shaky his hands were right now.

But he should have been thinking about all these things.

Instead, he was glancing around, looking for any sign of The Man who had jumped him in the bathroom, a heaviness aching in his chest as his heart pounded against his ribcage erratically. Brian must have seen the terror on his face because he placed a gentle, comforting hand against the drummer’s back and leaned into his ear so Roger could hear him against the loud room.

“It’s going to be all right, Rog! Just stay close to me, okay?”

Roger nodded and took a deep breath before he tried to force himself to relax. Freddie ordered the whole band pints of beer; they still had some time before their gig tonight and they could all handle a pint or two before show time. They all grabbed their glasses and found a table to sit down at.

Roger glanced over at John who was nervously strumming his fingers on the table. He and Brian exchanged worried looks before Brian spoke to the bassist.

“You okay, mate? You look like you’re going to spontaneously combust any moment now!” Brian exclaimed over the chatter and music.

John was looking annoyed; annoyed that he had to stop using and come to this gig where he had barely slept at all the whole week. His eyes looked sunken and exhausted, his body malnourished. He took a long sip, to which Freddie scolded him for.

“Hey, John! Easy now, darling! We still have music to play tonight!”

John Deacon ignored the singer and looked at Roger again. “What do you expect from me right now, Rog? We barely practiced at all –“

Brian tensed. “Well who’s fault was that, then? I’m sorry, but weren’t you incapacitated by drugs all week, nay, for the last few months now? Christ, John! I’m grateful that you’re even present and accounted for at all right now!”

“Guys…” Roger sighed, not in the mood to have John walk out on him on a day they would need him the most. That event would mean that Roger would have to most likely go find him, beg forgiveness, tell him to ignore Brian, and drag him back inside. Quite frankly, he didn’t have the energy today to do all that.         

“Oh yes, because I’m such a coke fiend that I just _couldn’t_ live without it! That’s why I chose to come here with all of you instead of being on the streets or in the clubs scoring another hit!”

Brian wasn’t going to back down from this fight. He was so stubborn and always had to get the last word in. It was just in his nature as long as Roger had known him, but he wouldn’t deny how annoying it was.

He took out a cigarette and lit it before taking a drag and looking at his friend. “Yes, John! You _chose_ to come here to play tonight! Not like our whole career depends on this bloody gig tonight or anything… oh, wait. Sure beats being homeless though, doesn’t it?”

“STOP IT!” Freddie yelled now. “Both of you damn arses!”

The other three men all looked at Freddie, not used to hearing him having an outburst like that. John took another drink of his pint and Brian backed off now, looking a bit embarrassed of himself.

“You both are simply insufferable, I swear,” Freddie shook his head, taking a drink now too. “We need to get through this one show and then you all can fight all you want, all right, boys? Just… make nice and let’s get tonight over and done with.”

 _Get it over and done with._ That was a depressing way of saying play together as a band. Roger shook his head in disbelief, glancing around absentmindedly before he took a long drink.

Freddie’s scolding seemed to quiet everyone and no one dared to speak. Thankfully they didn’t have to because the singer spoke again, this time it was directed at Roger.

“Are you feeling all right, dear?”

Roger nodded, looking down into his glass. “Yeah, Fred. Just… pre-gig nerves. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is, darling? You can tell me if there’s anything else on your mind, you know,” Freddie eyed the drummer almost knowingly.

Now it was Roger who was getting annoyed. “I’m _fine_. Just… leave me be, okay?”

Freddie narrowed his eyes playfully before taking a drink. “If you insist…”

“I do,” Roger nodded, clenching his jaw.

The singer put his hands up in surrender and grew quiet again. The guys sipped their drinks respectively and Roger felt a strong tension at the table now. All they were doing was getting into one fight after another; this wasn’t good for anyone, forget their futures.

“Excuse me, gents, I’m off to the gents,” John stood up from the table and started to move away from them.

The remaining three members tensed and went back into family and friend mode, Freddie automatically standing up as well and following John to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t decide to take advantage of the crowded room to sneak off and score some more drugs.

“Have you seen him yet, the man who attacked you last time?” Brian asked softly, finishing off his drink.

Roger glanced around the room and took a few minutes to scan it before shaking his head. “N-No, no. Not yet. It was probably just… a one-time thing, him being here that night.”

Brian searched his friend’s face before he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, probably, mate. If you see him, point him out to me, yeah?”

Roger felt an uncomfortable stab in his chest. “Point him out to you? Do you want to have a go with him as well?”

“No, certainly not. I just want to beat his face in, is all,” Brian scoffed before he lit up a cigarette and took a drag.

Roger smirked to himself just before lighting up himself, perhaps instinctually. He liked the thought of Brian being so protective of him, not to mention the thought of That Man getting his face punched him several dozen times. The thought amused him.

The guitarist chuckled softly after flicking the ash off his cigarette, looking at Roger. “What?”

Roger shook his head, chuckling as well. “Nothing. Just… thanks, Bri, for looking out for me, I guess. That’s all.”

“Of course, mate. Anytime. All the time.”

The two enjoyed a comfortable silence between each other before the drummer spoke. “Are you really upset at John? You two really went at it.”

Brian’s smile faltered slightly but he shook his head. “I love the guy, but he can be a real arsehole sometimes. I can tell he’s aching for a fix, though. He’s irritable enough.”

“Well, yeah,” Roger agreed, shrugging. “You’d be the same if you had to stop smoking.”

Brian seemed to agree because he smirked again before he took another drag. He glanced at his watch. “We’re going to need to set up in a bit. Hopefully Freddie and Deaky get back soon. See them anywhere?”

Roger looked towards the bathrooms but realized that had been a mistake because he suddenly got a flash of the scene of The Man and his lover going at it in the stall. He shut his eyes tightly before taking a deep breath and opened his eyes again, the image gone.

“Rog?”

The drummer swallowed hard and stood up. “Umm… no, I’ll go find them, though.”

“Hey, hold up,” Brian stood up suddenly as well. “I’ll come with you, mate. We can look for them together, yeah?”

Roger nodded started towards the restrooms but stopped short just before entering. He looked back at Brian who realized what was happening immediately.

He placed a hand on the drummer’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m right here. I’ll be with you all the way. No one’s going to hurt you, okay?”

Roger felt a sense of relief wash over him before he took a deep breath and walked inside with Brian. He looked around quickly for John and Freddie but didn’t see them. Instead, more flashes lit up in Roger’s head, more scenes of what had happened. Instantly, he felt his lungs deflating and he could hear himself gasping for air before he shut his eyes tightly again.

“N-No… no… please…”

“Shit, Roger… Rog? Listen to me, okay? You’re all right, mate. You’re having a panic attack but you’re going to be just fine. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

Roger could hear Brian’s reassuring words but his legs gave out from underneath him and he slid down the wall, tears escaping his eyes now. He clutched at the tile underneath him, feeling like he was having a heart attack.

“I-I can’t… I can’t b-breathe… I-I... B-Brian…”

He suddenly felt someone grab his hand tightly before he opened his eyes again and saw a worried guitarist in front of him.

“Listen to my voice, all right? Hey, hey… do you remember that night when we kept Freddie and John awake all night with our little Led Zeppelin rock concert? We were playing the instrumentals and singing all night long? Do you remember how pissed off they were at us the next day?” Brian chuckled.

He was trying to distract him. It was working a little bit because he found himself laughing weakly, nodding but still gasping for air.

“I know you’re panicking but your body needs oxygen so… we’re going to try a breathing exercise together, okay?” When he saw Roger nod, he continued. “Good, okay… breathe through your nose slowly for seven seconds, and then exhale through your mouth for eleven. Can you do that for me?”

Roger didn’t think he could but he was so desperate for oxygen right now that he’d do anything. He nodded.

“Good, all right. I’ll do it too. Ready? Here we go… breathe in slowly, one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven… good. Now exhale, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven. That’s it. Good job, mate! Good job… now do it again, okay?”

Roger had difficulty breathing in for slow and ended up exhaling out by the count of four but this time tried again. This time, he made it to six before he exhaled out. His head was feeling clearer now, and his lungs didn’t hurt so badly anymore. He did it a third time, finally making it to seven. He watched Brian basically tell off every asshole who stared at Roger before he turned his attention back to his friend again, encouraging him even more.

He kept doing the breathing exercise and as he got more oxygen into his body, he realized how heavy his limbs felt and how exhausted he was. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He could feel Brian gently rubbing his shoulders comfortingly.

“You’re doing brilliant, Rog. Just hang in there, okay? The worst is over now,” he whispered to him.

He wasn’t sure how long the two of them had been in there for but he heard Freddie’s voice greet them.

“Oh _Roger_ … what happened? Is he all right?”

“He’s fine, Freddie. He’s just had a panic attack. We need to get him out of here, though. Can you guys help me help him stand?”

“Yeah, of course. Come on, buddy…” John grabbed one of his arms and he felt Brian grab the other and together they helped him onto his feet, but his limbs felt like jelly, like he had already ran a marathon.

“Go wait outside for me. I’m just going to tell them we aren’t playing after all,” Freddie announced.

This made Roger come to his senses now because he stiffened and was going to turn around as Brian led him through the crowd towards the exit. “N-No! Wait… we have to p-play. It’s an important gig!”

“Whoa, no… come on, Roger. There’ll be other important gigs. We need to get you home, all right?”

John looked a bit conflicted but he agreed as well. “Yeah, mate. There’ll be other shows to play. You’re more important right now. Anyway, you’d be useless as a drummer right now when you can barely stand at the moment.”

Roger knew he was right. He leaned on Brian who easily was half-carrying him outside now. He leaned him against the building, one arm around his waist to hold him up.

The fresh, cold air felt nice on his face. He swallowed hard and took a few more deep breaths.

“How are you feeling now, Rog? Better?”

The drummer nodded silently, too tired to talk. He just wanted to fall down into bed and go to sleep for a thousand years. He just felt so _tired._ He did open his mouth to say two words, though.

“I’m s-sorry…”

Brian shook his head. “Don’t be. You’re safe now. I’m actually so sick of playing in that place that I didn’t know if I could do it again,” he laughed softly.

Roger chuckled softly, grinning weakly. Shit it even hurt to laugh.

“You’re safe now,” he repeated again right before it began to sprinkle on the three of them.

 

**.    .    .    .   .    .    .     .**

“So where the hell were you two, eh? I thought you had gone to the gents!”

“We did, darling, but then John wanted to mingle and I didn’t think it would be a good idea if he went alone so I went with him. I didn’t think it would be an ordeal, Brian, I swear.”

“That’s bullshit, Fred!”

“It’s the truth, dear… I really _am_ sorry about what happened. We were just about to go back to find you for the show, though.”

“If I had known you were on the floor somewhere, I wouldn’t have taken Roger to the damn bathrooms! If I hadn’t done, then he wouldn’t have had his panic attack!”

Roger was startled awake, but he was still half asleep. The sound of Brian’s angry, protective voice woke him up. His limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, but he found energy to look around. He was in Brian’s bed, alone.

  _He felt like such an idiot; he had totally lost it back there, lost them money, the gig, possibly even a career as a great band. He had failed all of them. Now, their fighting was also his fault._

“Freddie was only with me because of my whole drugs issue. You shouldn’t just be upset at him…”

“Oh, I’m not! I know this is more your fault than his!” Brian explained before there was a loud sound of things being thrown around. “If you could only act like a responsible, bloody adult, we would’ve been back there still playing and Roger wouldn’t have been having flashbacks of whatever happened to him in that bathroom!”

A few minutes of silence, then Freddie’s voice.

“He told you, didn’t he? Everything that happened in there?”

Roger felt his heart sink into his stomach and start to drown.

“Yes, he did… it doesn’t take a rocket scientist or even an astrophysicist for that matter to piece it all together, though, does it? He’s scared to death, guys. You should’ve seen what happened to him the second he entered that room.”

More silence.

“So… how we fix this? I mean… how do we help Rog?” John’s voice.

“I believe I should talk to him, darling. When he wakes up, I mean,” Freddie volunteered. “We’ll let him sleep for now, though.”

“What are you going to say to him that I haven’t?”

“Just trust me, Brian. I’ll come up with something. Don’t you worry.”

Roger looked up when he saw the door open quietly and saw Brian creep in before closing it again.

Brian’s face paled when he saw that the drummer was awake and sighed to himself before he sat down on the bed, placing a glass of water on the table. “How much did you hear?”

“Heard you telling them it was their fault I had a panic attack, and heard you throw something. Then how Freddie is going to talk to me about… what happened before.”

“Sorry, mate. I shouldn’t had let my frustration get to me like that. I was just… so angry at them . I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s not their fault, Bri,” Roger looked at him firmly. “It was my own. I just… started having flashbacks to That Night, and everything came flooding back to me all at once. I felt like they were there again and… I don’t know. I just… lost it.”

“It isn’t your fault either, Rog. You went through a traumatic experience –"

“No, I didn’t!” Roger shouted suddenly, making Brian jump in surprise. “It wasn’t… a traumatic experience at all, or at least, it shouldn’t have been. I wasn’t even… raped. He just… hit me a little and gave me a couple bruises! I don’t have the right to feel like I had a traumatic experience, Brian. Nothing happened.”

Brian looked at him with sad eyes before he shook his head.

“Attempted rape is just as bad. You were still attacked, you’re still afraid it might happen again… no one has the right to tell you that you didn’t suffer enough. It still shouldn’t have ever happened and I still want to kill the cunt that did it,” Brian sighed in frustration.

Roger felt his heart warm and grew quiet again before reaching over and drinking the whole glass of water in nearly one go. His throat felt so dry.

“When is this going to be over? When am I going to stop having panic attacks and flashbacks?”

Brian chewed on his lower lip and shook his head. “I… I’m not sure, Rog. Maybe it would help to… tell the others about what happened?”

“They already know.”

“They have an idea,” Brian corrected. “I think they have a basic gist of what happened in their heads but… I think they also need to hear it from you, detail for detail.”

“How’s that going to help _me?_ I already told you. Isn’t that enough?” Roger rubbed his sore eyes. Telling Brian had been difficult enough; now he had to tell the rest of the band members? It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t he gone through enough bullshit? He just wanted to forget about it.

“It’s your choice to make, but… if you just let them in on it too, we can all help you instead of just me. Or… you can just tell Freddie first, and then either myself or Freddie can tell John. How does that sound?”

Roger halfheartedly hit the bed with his open palm. “Why do either of them need to know at all?”

“Because we’re a band but more importantly, we’re a family, Roger! It’s important that all of us know what happening with each other. What if you had kept this to yourself instead of telling me? Do you know what happens to the human psyche when you keep traumatic experiences buried inside you and don’t open up to anyone?” Brian didn’t wait for Roger to answer. “It festers, and it isolates you to such a debilitating degree that you want to do _anything_ to make the pain go away. We could have lost you.”

The thought of Roger telling Freddie or John about this made him want to kill himself but he couldn’t imagine not having told Brian about this first or ever.

“What if they… judge me for it? I mean, Freddie’s… gay. What if he thinks that I’m afraid of _him_ too?”

“He’s not going to judge you, Roger. I think it’ll help you, honestly.”

“Can I talk to him tomorrow, then? I’m exhausted and want to go back to sleep.” Roger put his head back on the pillow.

“Yeah, of course, mate,” he changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed beside his friend, his back against Roger’s. “It’s going to be okay, Rog.”

The drummer nodded but didn’t think Brian could see him. “Okay.”

“I mean it, you know. It really will be okay.”

“I know.”


	5. baggage

**.     .     .**

 

Roger woke up the next morning feeling depressed. Nothing had gone right last night and it had been his fault that none of them would get the recognition that they deserved. He could already feel warm tears rising to his eyes and he knew it wasn’t even eight o’ clock yet.

“Feel any better, darling?”

The drummer glanced towards the door to see Freddie enter and move over to sit beside him on the bed. It was only now that he realized Brian wasn’t next to him anymore.

“I’m fine, Freddie. It’s just my ego that’s bruised a bit.”

The singer moved a little closer so he could glance over to look at the young man. He was quiet for a while before he spoke. “If… you feel up to it, Roger, I’d like to hear about that night. I know… that someone hurt you, but… if you feel comfortable talking about it, I would like to hear the whole story.”

Roger sighed, running a hand through his hair before he forced himself to sit upright now, looking down at his hands, refusing to look at Freddie if he really had to do this.

“I’m guessing I don’t have a say in the matter.”

Freddie gave a small half-smirk. “Of course you can choose not to talk about it, but… I’m afraid it might cause a rift between all of us, in that case. I’m not going to be judgmental about it, darling. I simply want to know what’s causing you to have these… panic attacks.”

Roger swallowed hard, mentally choosing his words carefully in his head. He nodded now and took a deep breath.

“Brian and I were having a great time that night, and… we were just finishing up when Bri said he’d meet me outside. I told him I had to use the restroom first, so I slipped inside and… and I saw this man… going at it with his partner, or whatever… and…” He felt ridiculous talking about this now but he knew he had to continue.

“And I walked around them, did my business, and then I washed my hands. I saw one of the guys come up behind me and tell me that… I was a nice looking bloke and asked if I cared to… join them. I politely declined, and I started to leave, right? Well, he blocked my way out. I tried to excuse myself and he… he smashed my head against the w-wall,” Roger took a shaky breath.

“It’s okay, dear,” Freddie said softly. “At your own pace. We have plenty of time.” He felt the singer gently place his hand on Roger’s own hand before thumbing his skin comfortingly.

Roger pinched the bridge of his nose but it didn’t stop the hot tears that were already running down his face. He took another deep breath, still avoiding Freddie’s eyes.  If he thought it had been difficult telling everything to Brian, it was nothing compared to telling it all to the singer.

“All I tasted was blood in my mouth… and I started to try to shove him away from me but t-then he… he fumbled for my b-belt, and undid it,” Roger’s voice cracked as he started openly crying. He roughly wiped away his tears but more just replaced them. “I-I felt his hands fucking… unzipping my pants and I felt like I-I woke up and I brought my head back and broke his nose behind me. Then… I ran f-for it, zipped my pants back up, and buckled them… t-then I found Brian o-outside. Fucking Christ!” He sobbed, turning away from Freddie in shame.

Freddie gently pulled Roger closer to him so his face was resting in his shoulder, the singer’s arm around him as he cried. He gently caressed Roger’s hair.  “Shhh… you’re safe now, darling. You’re here with us. I’m so sorry that happened to you, Rog. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

Roger sobbed into Freddie’s shirt, feeling like everything he had been holding in the past week was being let go again. He held onto him with his hands. “I-It wasn’t your fault… I just… I-I shouldn’t have let him do that to me, F-Fred! H-He was strong but I-I should’ve been stronger… I should h-have –“

“None of that now, Roger,” Freddie cooed into the drummer’s hair. “You didn’t have to do anything. You shouldn’t have had to have done anything in the first place. That behavior was completely out of line and it could have gone a very different way for you, dear. I’m so grateful it didn’t, though.”

Roger seemed to calm down a little. He wiped his face on his sleeve before he took a deep, shaky breath again. “Y-You’re not disgusted at all? By me?”

Freddie leaned back slowly and took Roger’s face in his hands. “Roger, darling, the only person I’m disgusted of right now is that horrible cunt who attacked you. What happened wasn’t your fault. You didn’t mock them or… joke about them, or anything to antagonize them, right?” When Roger shook his head, Freddie gave him a small smile.

“Then it wasn’t your fault. You were very lucky to have gotten away, but I just want to tell you that not all of… _us_ are as bad as those two men were, okay? They were the exception. Do you feel differently about me?”

Roger looked up at him. “W-What do you mean, Fred…?”

The singer looked a little ashamed now. “I only mean… because those gentlemen were gay… and I am as well, as you know. Do you see me in the same light as those men now?”

Roger was taken aback by what Freddie was suggesting. He shook his head automatically and appeared to compose himself a little. “W-What? No… no way, Freddie. I-I know you’re not like those assholes, and… I know that not all guys who are like you are like those two either. You’re right; they were the exception. I know that.”

Freddie seemed to relax a little now and nodded, smiling again. “Good, darling. Just making sure.” After a few moments, he added, “You have the right to say no, of course, but… do you mind if I check to see how you’re healing?”

Roger shook his head as he stood up. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” He took off his shirt and lowered his pajama bottoms just below his hips so Freddie could see how the bruises were healing.

Freddie moved to the edge of the bed so he could get a better look and glanced up at Roger first before he gently placed a hand on his hip. “Oh yes, it _is_ healing so that’s good, at least. Okay, thank you, darling.” He stood up now and turned to look at his friend. “I’m always here for you, if you need to talk about it. I know you already did just now, but… I mean, if things start to get too overwhelming for you. You can just complain about it to me, or… what have you. Listen to me, I’m just rambling now…”

Roger wiped his eyes again and chuckled softly, his throat sore from crying. “No, that sounds… nice. Thank you, Freddie. I appreciate it, really. Umm… could I ask you a favor now?”

The singer stretched his arms up and rested either one between the door way. “Anything, Roger. What is it?”

“Can you… c-can you tell John about it? You know, so I don’t have to?”

Freddie smiled and nodded. “Of course, dear. Not a problem. Is that all?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

He watched Freddie leave the room now and pulled himself together, running his hands over his face as he did the breathing exercise Brian had taught him. Once he had calmed himself down, he headed towards the kitchen and sat down at the table, seeing only Brian making tea for himself.

“Morning, Rog. Care for a cup?”

“Yes, please…”

“All right,” Brian made up a cup of tea for Roger and placed it in front of the drummer before grabbing his own and sitting down, the radio quietly playing music on the counter. He seemed to notice Roger’s red eyes. “Everything okay, mate?”

Roger nodded, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window. “I told Freddie,” he confessed softly.

Brian raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You did? Really?”

“Yep. It was hell, but it’s done. He’s going to tell John about it as well, so I don’t have to.” He looked back at Brian who was no smiling.

“That’s great, Rog. I’m really glad you decided to tell him.”

Roger scoffed but he was smirking. “He didn’t give me any choice! I basically had to, lest risk causing a rift between the band. Can’t have that.”

“Oh, right… so he emotionally blackmailed you, then. Right, I see now,” Brian shook his head. “It’s not right that he did that, but I’m still glad you told him. Whatever affects one of us, eventually affects all of us.”

“Yeah,” Roger nodded. “I know.” He took a sip of his tea. “Bri, I’m… so fucking sorry about last night, mate, about ruining our chances and stopping us from getting paid to play. I feel really bad about it.”

The guitarist sighed and shook his head before he cocked his head to the side to look at Roger. “I told you before; it’s fine. You don’t need to apologize to any of us, Roger. We all understand and agree that you’re more important than a show. We’ll have tons of more shows, probably at the same bloody god-forsaken place…” he rolled his eyes, smirking.

Roger chuckled now, and smirked back. He grabbed his cigarettes off the table and lit up before watching Brian do it moments later. They’ve been friends for so long that they appeared to mirror each other more often than not.

The two sipped their tea in comfortable silence and talked occasionally. Roger felt like nothing had ever happened and he could finally move on with his life in the band again. He had missed the last few classes so he knew he would have to make up the homework for it. Then, a sudden thought struck him:

 _Why even bother_? He didn’t want to actually be a dentist. That had been his father’s dream for him. So, what did Roger Taylor actually want to do?

He wanted to drum. He wanted to play in the band with his best friends. _That_ was his dream. _That_ was what he wanted to do with his life. Even if they never went anywhere, at least he could say he followed his dreams.

They had finished their cigarettes and had drunk most of their tea when they heard walking down the hall and saw John walk into the kitchen. He stood there in front of Roger awkwardly for a few minutes before Roger suddenly felt the bassist’s arms around him tightly.

He tensed, unprepared for the close contact but unwound his arms and awkwardly hugged him back. “So… I suppose Freddie’s told you then, eh?”

John nodded against his shoulder before he moved away from him, searching his face. “I-I’m… so sorry, mate, and especially about last night. I had no idea. I mean, I’ve been so into myself lately that I haven’t really been able to see anything else but… I’m sorry, and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Brian looked slightly amused at the uneasy bassist but hid it by pretending to be absorbed in his tea cup.

“Thank you, John. Means a lot, mate,” Roger said earnestly, gently patting his friend’s arm. “Kettle’s still warm. Have some tea, join us.”

John took him up on the invitation and poured tea for both him and Freddie just as the singer also walked in, freshly showered. He sat down with both cups, setting one in front of Freddie’s spot at the table.

“Well, look at this, darlings! We’re all sitting at the table together for once, instead of sprawled out in different rooms or off at classes! Every day should be like this,” Freddie exclaimed.

Brian chuckled. “I think if I did this every day, I’d end up failing my classes.”

“Classes,” John scoffed. “You both won’t need classes when we hit it big! We’ll play sold out shows, make albums! You two won’t need to be _dentists_ or _astrophysicists_ when we’re all rock stars _._ You’ll have all the money you need just doing what you love.”

Freddie smiled, obviously glad to have the old John back again. He took a long sip of his tea as Brian shook his head.

“Right, when we’re all rock stars,” Brian sighed skeptically.

“You’re all rock stars already in my book, darlings…”

Roger smiled at the singer who playfully winked at him. He looked at John. “When we’re all rock stars, we need to promise that we all won’t give in and do what the other rock stars do, yeah? Sex, drugs, rock n’ roll. Let’s leave the drugs part out –“

John raised an index finger pointedly. “Unless the drugs are the fun kind, like LSD and a bit of weed,” he smirked mischievously.

“I don’t believe this,” Brian raised an eyebrow. “We just got you off of one drug, and you’re already planning on doing others.

“Honestly, as long it isn’t cocaine again, then you can do every drug under the sun, darling,” Freddie sighed.

“Right, so… sex, mild drugs, and rock n roll. That’s the kind of band we’ll be, then,” Roger put together. “We’re all in agreement?”

“Here, here!” Brian, John, and Freddie all pounded on the table in unison.

The four men talked adamantly for the next hour and a half at the table, laughing and joking like they hadn’t before. With John being clean again, it seemed like things were back to normal. Roger wanted them to be normal, anyway. He knew they he would have to go back to that venue to play again, though; this thought made his chest ache and his hands shake, but at least now, he wasn’t alone. The others would help him, there was no doubt about that.

 

**. .   . ..   … …  …  ..  …..  ..  …. …**

The men punted around the house all day doing various things until the sun began to set outside and Freddie got a horribly evil idea.

“Boys! Where are yooooou? Come out to the kitchen, all of you!”

Brian looked over at Roger as they both were catching up on homework on their floor and forced himself up before helping his friend. “Uh oh. I wonder what the King wants now…”

“Better go out there before he comes in here,” Roger followed him out of the room towards the kitchen where John was too.

They didn’t even have to ask what Freddie was up to;  he had three tall bottles of whiskey sitting on the table and he was looking at all of them with a grin on his face. There were only three bottles because Brian, Roger, and John had all unknowingly bought one for Freddie on move-in day so it was the only hard liquor that they had in the house.

“I’ve got an idea. Let’s get to know each other a little better. Let’s play… Never Have I Ever.”

John looked confused. “What the hell’s that?”

“Oh, John… it’s clear you’ve never been to a proper university. Here’s how it’ll work; we’ll take turns asking each other questions, starting with ‘never have I ever...” and if the speaker says something you’ve done, you drink. If you haven’t done it, then you don’t drink.”

“Oh Jesus, Freddie,” Brian chuckled. “This sounds like a good way to kill both brain cells and friendships. Nice going.”

Roger chuckled but this would hopefully prove to be a good escape from the week’s events for him. He just wanted to not think about what had happened to him.

“So are you boys in, or do I have to simply drink all of these alone?”

Brian scoffed. “Drink those alone and you’ll have proper alcohol poisoning, Fred.”

“Good! Then you’ll drink with me. Sit down now, all of you!”

Once the men had taken a seat, Brian passed out tumblers to all of them and sat back down again. Freddie poured them all drinks filled halfway each and smirked, pleased to have gotten his way.

“Excellent, who shall start?” He glanced around but no one seemed eager to begin the game. “All right, then. I suppose I will. Let’s see… never have I ever… had straight sex with anyone.”

“Fucking hell,” John playfully swore as he took a drink.

Brian and Roger looked at each other before reluctantly also taking a drink.

“Deaky! I didn’t take you for such a playboy! We’re off to a fantastic start! Okay, let’s go clockwise so Brian, you’re next,” Freddie lit a cigarette and took a drag from it before blowing the smoke away from the others considerately.

The guitarist looked like he would’ve rather be doing literally anything other this. “Never… have I ever… blown another bloke.”

Freddie looked more disappointed than offended as he took a drink. “That’s just cheating now, for the record, Brian. That’d go in the same category as the first one so it couldn’t have been done again! Since this is our first time playing it together, though… I’ll let it slide. All righty, Roger! Your turn, darling. Let’s leave sex out of this game for now, shall we?”

Roger nodded and tried to come up with one. “Hmm… never have I ever… lived in Zanzibar,” he smirked.

Brian and John both laughed, looking over at Freddie who was taking another sip of his whiskey.

“Simply unfair, darlings… John, you’re up.”

John almost took another sip but stopped himself. “Umm… right. Let’s see. Never have I ever… dressed in woman’s clothes before.”

Brian was laughing so hard now he was slapping his knee. “Aww, John. That’s so unfair… oh god.”

Freddie took another drink, shaking his head. “That _is_ unfair. None of you have willingly tried on woman’s clothes before, though? I mean, ever? Even when you’ve been high or drunk? This game is about being truthful!”

Roger shook his head but then stopped. “I’ve tried on a hat before, but… that doesn’t count, right?”

“Drink up, Rog,” Brian smirked.

“What?! It’s not the same!” Roger chuckled, trying to fight it.

“What kind of hat was it, darling?”

Roger sighed and was trying to motion with his hands what it looked like. “A sun hat, somewhat big, wide. Feathery…”

“Drink up, dear,” Freddie chuckled now.

“Oh I regret saying anything now,” Roger took another drink of his whiskey. “Freddie, I guess it’s your turn.”

“Right, dear… hmm. Oh, never have I ever…. Written a love song about my car,” The singer teased, smiling.

Brian was in hysterics as he laughed uncontrollably, tears running down the sides of his face. Roger shook his head and took another drink, starting to feel the alcohol warm his body.

“Yeah, you guys laugh it up. I’ll get you back for that one, Freddie,” he chuckled. “Anyway, there is nothing wrong with a song about a man and his car so… you all can go to hell. Okay, umm... whose turn now?”

“I believe it’s Brian’s now. Oh my, only if he’s all right enough to talk…”

Brian was still laughing but he had finally gotten himself under control after wiping away his tears. “Ohhh my god… okay. My turn. Let’s see… never have I ever… done cocaine.”

Freddie and John reluctantly took a drink.

“Fair enough,” Fred admitted. “John.”

The bassist was looking tired and bored as he leaned back in his chair. “Never have I ever… felt like I wanted to be in control of this band more than anyone else in it.”

The statement made Brian stop laughing altogether and brought a heavy tension in the room. Freddie looked over at him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry…? Is that the one you’re going to use for the game? If so, I think you should also take a drink, darling. You’re delusional if you believe that I’m the only one who wanted to be in control of this band,” Freddie’s playful grin turned dark.

Brian and Roger glanced at each other and Brian took the hint to try and defuse the situation before it spun out of control.

“John! Do a different one, yeah?”

The bassist suddenly finished off his glass quickly and stood up. “No, I’m done. You all can keep playing this childish game but I’m finished. I’m going to bed.”

“Perhaps you should,” Freddie replied, an edge to his voice. “You always get like this when you need a nap. Maybe you’re the childish one, Deaky.”

John glared at him before he walked down the hall to his room and closed the door. The tension still lay thick in the atmosphere in the kitchen. Freddie sighed and looked at Roger and Brian.

“I apologize for that, for him,” he polished off his drink now too, no longer in the mood to play games.

“What is this hostility John has with you? He’s clean now, yeah? Why’s he going through these mood swings with all of us? I’m getting whiplash from him,” Brian searched Freddie’s face for answers.

Roger looked at Freddie as well. “What the hell’s going on between you two? Is there something we should know about?”

The singer refilled his drink and shook his head before taking a sip. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll take care of him. He’s just still bitter about having to be clean. I don’t think his body is ready for that task yet.”

Brian and Roger both watched as Freddie disappeared into the same room John had gone in and soon, the two of them could be heard yelling back and forth. Roger finished his drink now, followed by Brian a few minutes later.

“We need to find out what’s going on, don’t we?” Roger asked.

“For the good of the band, yeah, if we ever want to continue being a family. I’d say so. Don’t concern yourself with their bullshit right now, though. Yeah? We should both be focusing on school, in case all of this falls through.”

“Wow, way to be optimistic, Bri. You’re already counting on us failing before we even begin.”

Brian playfully ruffled up the drummer’s hair with his hand. “I’m just trying to think realistically, Rog, in case the worst should happen. Don’t stay up too late, mate.”

“I won’t.” He waited until Brian went into their shared room before Roger poured himself another drink. Whatever was going on, he needed to find out. Then again, there was another part of him that didn’t want to deal with their baggage.

Brian was right; he needed to focus on school right now. The way they were going, how fast things could change on a dime in their flat, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to have a Plan B.

Fuck being a rock star.

He needed money. He needed stability. At least school proved to be a good distraction as well as a routine that he could focus on. He needed to, for his own sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo being that this is 1977, "I Want To Break Free" hasn't come out yet, hence, why the others (well besides Roger) hasn't dressed up in woman's clothes.*


	6. changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took creative liberties and made up the name of their "usual" place but it's actually a real place near their designated flat. A lot of these places are real places, in case you didn't know. I really haven't made up a lot of the locations.

**.     .     .**

The weekend rushed by way too fast for Roger’s liking and he woke up Monday morning to the sound of water running through the pipes in the flat.  He glanced beside him and saw that Brian wasn’t there; it must be him getting ready for class. The drummer sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He had hardly gotten any sleep last night since all he could think about was this past weekend with John and Freddie.

He remembered how Brian had told him to forget about them for right now to focus on class too but he felt torn; John needed help. Maybe he wasn’t really clean even though he claimed to be. If he was still using, then he was in trouble. Then again, what if he couldn’t help him? He didn’t know what to do for him anymore.

If things continued the way they were, then eventually they wouldn’t be able to play together anymore. Roger knew Brian wouldn’t hesitate to break away from the band, even if it hurt. He still had a future in science and astronomy to get him by. He could get his PhD and teach it if he had to. Where the hell did that leave _him_? He was stuck in between them all.

He felt too mentally exhausted to get ready for class so he just continued to lay in the bed until Brian came into the room in just a towel, an occurrence that wasn’t rare by any means.

“What are you doing still in bed? Don’t you have class today, or was it cancelled?” Brian started towel-drying himself off.

Roger shook his head, looking up at the guitarist. “Not cancelled, I just… don’t feel like going anymore.”

“What are you on about, Rog? If you don’t go, you’ll flunk out!”

The drummer sighed and buried himself in deeper into the warm comforter. “I don’t care, Bri. I’m just… done, with all of it. I don’t want to be a dentist anymore. I’ve changed my mind. Let me flunk out.”

He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was depression or just laziness. He knew the two had no correlation whatsoever, but they also were often misinterpreted to mean the other.

He heard soft footsteps walk over to the bed and then saw Brian’s hazel eyes, followed by his usual curly mop of dark hair; he had knelt down to his eye level.

“Roger, I know… things aren’t the best between all of us right now, but we’ll get past whatever bullshit this is. We always do, right?” The drummer nodded, prompting Brian to speak again. “No one’s saying you have to keep going for your medical degree in dentistry or anything. You should do whatever you want to do, and we’ll be here to support you. I just think it’s a good idea that you get away from here sometimes, you know? It’s not good for you mentally to be cooped up in this flat all day with John and Freddie the way they are.”

Roger nodded in understanding. “So what should I do now, Brian?” He whispered to his room.

“I think… we’ll make a cup of tea, and then figure out what you want to go for. It’s a bit late into the semester for dropping out, but… who really cares? You should study something you find interesting. If this rock star plan of Freddie’s falls through, then at least you can have that to fall back on. Come on, mate. I’ll put the kettle go. You go shower; you’ll feel better,” Brian promised, smiling softly before he stood up again and finished getting dressed and left for the kitchen.

Roger watched him change and leave before he dragged himself out of bed and grabbed his clothes before making his way to the bathroom, however, it was closed. He hesitated before he knocked.

“I’ll be out in a damned minute!”

Roger jumped at the yelling but it only made his frustration grow. “I have class! Please get out before there’s one less band member in this group!”

The door suddenly swung open and he was met with an apologetic looking Freddie. “Sorry, Roger, dear. I thought you were John at first.”

“When are you planning on filling the rest of us in on what’s going on with him?”

Freddie opened his mouth, his eyes looking almost eager and fearful to explain but then the singer shook his head and he walked past Roger. “When hell freezes over, darling…”

He had used a joke to cover for what was happening with the bassist, but Roger had seen how much Freddie wanted to tell him, which obviously wasn’t much. Maybe it wasn’t his secret to tell? Maybe John was embarrassed about it. John was hardly ever embarrassed about anything, so when he was, the members knew it was serious. This only fueled Roger’s concern for his friend but he had a university to drop out of and change majors in.

He hopped in the shower and quickly washed the grime off of his skin and the oil in his hair before he got out, dried off, changed, and made for the kitchen.

Brian was in there, as promised, and had set a cup of tea at the spot beside him at the table for Roger.

“Thanks, mate…”

“Sure thing,” Brian seemed somewhat distracted as he looked down at the book in front of him.

Freddie was also in the kitchen, having tea but was standing against the counter as he waited for his toast to pop up. “Big exam to prepare for, Brian?”

“Hmm?” The guitarist glanced from Freddie to Roger, and then back to Freddie. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, no, actually. I have to basically teach the subject of singularities and black holes to the class for a grade.”

“Black holes sound like a good place to throw a certain bassist into…” The singer spoke softly.

Roger sighed and looked over at him. “Fred, give it a rest, yeah?”

The singer put his hands up in surrender before he turned around to put jam on his toast and then left the kitchen, much to Roger’s own relief. He took a sip of his tea before he grabbed the nearby package of cigarettes and placed one between his lips and lit it. He set the lighter back down, taking a drag from the cigarette.

He watched Brian almost admiringly. Nothing deterred him from his education. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. He knew who he wanted to be, and he found the subject matter entirely engrossing. Roger wished he had that much dedication to something, felt something deep within him that he could study for endless hours about simply because it interested him so much. He admired Brian for being able to feel that strongly about something, and perhaps even envied the man.                    

He took another before he sighed and took a drink of tea before he looked out the window absentmindedly at the street, quiet so Brian could study. The guitarist looked up from his books only five minutes later and smirked at him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Roger glanced over at him, startled by the other man’s voice in the silent room. “Oh, umm… just thinking how I much I’d rather by living in the countryside inside of in the city. It’s so loud in the city.”

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “Too quiet in the country.”

The drummer laughed softly now, taking another drag of the cigarette before knocking the ash off of it in the astray on the table. “If this thing with the band fell through, I guess it’d be difficult for the two of us to still keep living together, huh? We’re so different...”

Brian looked at him with soft eyes. “Don’t worry, Rog. If this thing fell through, I’d make sure the two of us still had a place together. We’d compromise, I’m sure. Anyway, we’d have difficult paying rent by ourselves while we looked for new flat mates. It’s just easier if we split it together. We wouldn’t be homeless or anything.”

Roger nodded, undeniably relieved to hear this. He had thought about it before how his relationship with Brian would change if Queen broke up. He swallowed hard at the thought before he willed it away entirely; he wouldn’t let his thoughts go there lest the panic rose up in his chest again.

The last thing he wanted was to have a panic attack before lunchtime.

“So what do you think I should major in?” He asked after a few minutes, taking a drink of his tea as he looked over at Brian.

The man looked up at him again and leaned in his chair, looking down at his book before looking over to Roger. “Well, what do you think? Does anything hold your attention? Anything in particular you like doing or learning about?”

Roger hadn’t ever really thought about it before. His father had been a dentist so he always figured that was what he’d do too. He shrugged and sighed, taking another drag as he thought.

“Dunno. I just like drumming. Like art though, I suppose. I like drawing, when I get the chance,” Roger admitted.

He didn’t think he had ever told anyone about that passion. He rarely had time to draw and when he did, it was mostly people, but he liked the distraction it gave him. It made him concentrate and be in the moment like nothing else did.

Brian smiled and put his arms out. “See? There you go. There’s a university about ten or so minutes away from mine for art, University for the Arts. You could apply there.”

“Brilliant, it’s so much… fucking paperwork just for drawing. I can do it here at home. Going to that college is probably going to cost me an upwards of €10,000. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do, Brian. Help me out here,” Roger begged, beginning to feel the panic rising up again.

He put his cigarette out and took a deep breath.

Brian moved a chair over so he was closer to the drummer and put a comforting hand on his arm. “Hey, no need to start panicking about this, Rog. Let’s just… think about this, okay? Pick it apart, like. All right, you’re midway through this semester, close to getting a degree for dentistry, yeah? Right now, I think it’d be easier for you money-wise to finish up this semester, do the exams, and get your degree. Then at least you’ll have it. Then, after you get it, you can drop out, and if you still want to, apply to this art school and do what you want.”

Having Brian pick it all apart like that made it seem easier for Roger to breathe again. He rubbed his eyes and took another deep breath and nodded.

“Good. There’s no rush, mate. Just do things in your own time. This whole university thing is just a worst-case scenario plan anyway, right? In case things don’t go the way we all want them to. At least we’ll have a backup plan,” Brian explained. “No worries. You got this, and I’m always going to be here for you too. Okay?”

Roger nodded again, relaxing a bit. He chuckled nervously. “Thanks, Bri. I guess… things were just… getting to be a little overwhelming for me there.”

“It’s what I’m here for. All right! So you’re going to your class today, then. What do you want to do after class?”

The drummer thought for a few minutes. He knew what Brian was thinking.

 _Drinks_.

It was their go-to plans. It’s what they would usually do after class. Roger couldn’t think of a better option. It was either that or go back home where Freddie and John were ticking time bombs waiting to explode, shooting shrapnel towards both Brian and Roger.

“Can we… go to a different venue for drinks?” Roger asked anxiously, rubbing his arms with his hands.

Brian thought for a moment before he snapped his fingers in realization. “Yeah, yeah. We can go to Whisky-A-Go-Go on Wardour St. It’s about ten minutes by cab from my university, so since you finish before I do, come find me at Imperial and then we’ll go together, sound good?”

Roger nodded eagerly, grateful they had a plan to go to a new place. Relief washed over him and he looked at his friend appreciatively. “Yeah, sounds great, Bri.”

Brian clapped the drummer on the back before he smiled and then glanced up at the kitchen clock before he stood up and started gathering up his books, shoving them into his bag.

“All right, so… I’ll see you later, then.” Roger nodded and then watched the guitarist wave him goodbye before he disappeared from the flat.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

**… …. …. … …… …. …. ….**

Roger almost mentally willed all his classes to go by quickly and when he finished his last exam, he booked it out of there. He took a cab to Imperial College and walked swiftly to the library, looking around for a solid eight minutes before he finally found Brian asleep with a textbook in his lap.

He smiled to himself, almost hesitant to wake him; he looked so peaceful when he slept.

He gently shook the older man and saw Brian react as if his book was about to fall. He glanced up at Roger and looked almost embarrassed to have fallen asleep. He shoved his book into his bag and stood up, stretching.

“Nice nap, Bri? I didn’t take that long getting here, did I?” He glanced down at his watch.

The other man sighed tiredly and shook his head. “No, you’re fine, mate. Just… studying too much, not sleeping enough, I guess. Ready to get drinks?”

“Yeah, been ready since you mentioned it this morning, to be honest.”

This made Brian chuckle and smile, instantly looking more alert and awake. “Good, let’s go.” He led him towards the street in front of the college and they grabbed a cab to the venue.

When they arrived, Roger’s jaw nearly dropped out of his skull.

The building was a lot bigger, and a lot nicer looking than the place the four of them usually drank and played at. This place was at least three stories tall, with bright neon lights flashing inside as music hummed from inside the building.

“Jesus, look at this place! It’s fucking massive! Why aren’t we playing here? We’d get a bigger fan base!”

Brian chuckled and led him towards the front. “Are you kidding? _Us,_ play _here?_ We’re not quite that popular yet, Rog. Come on, let’s go check it out.”

The two men walked inside together and Roger glanced around the place. It looked a lot darker, besides the neon lights occasionally flashing inside. He stayed close to Brian but the floor was packed with bodies, cigarette and weed smoke both thick in the air. He suddenly felt the guitarist’s hand grab his own before he led him through the sea of people.

The touch felt safe and protective more than anything else.

Brian didn’t let go of him until they had reached the bar and were standing side by side. He looked at the bartender and held two fingers up. “Two beers, please.” The bartender set two beers in front of them and Roger watched as Brian paid for them.

“I could’ve paid for them, Bri,” he said hesitantly.

Brian shook his head dismissively before he smirked. “Don’t worry about it, mate. I’ve got this round. It’s at least ten times busier in here than in our place, isn’t it?”

Roger nodded in agreement and took a long pull of his beer, enjoying the taste of the cold liquid more than was probably appropriate. He took out his cigarettes and felt in his pocket for his lighter but didn’t feel it.

“Shit, I must’ve left it back home…”

Brian started feeling for his own but before he could take it out, Roger saw a slender hand move towards his cigarette and lit it for him. He looked at the stranger and felt a flutter in his stomach. This woman was beautiful.

“Thanks, miss…”

“No problem. I’m Jess,” she introduced herself, holding out a hand.

Roger shook it gently. “Roger, and this is my friend and bandmate Brian.”

Her eyes glanced over at Brian and nodded kindly. “I know you two,” she smiled. “You open for the bands at The Sweeney bar near Palace Gate St.” It wasn’t a question.

Roger’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’ve seen us play? Wow… don’t usually meet a fan anywhere else other than that sodding place.”

“Yeah,” Brian agreed, perhaps a bit suspiciously. “We don’t. It’s some coincidence.”

“A happy one, I hope?” Jess chuckled before she moved in between the men and ordered herself a tonic and water before she looked between them. “What brings you out here?”

She was talking but all Roger could smell now was her vanilla scented perfume, hyper aware of how close she was standing to him. “We thought we’d try somewhere new for a change of scenery. You?”

She smiled at the drummer, brunette locks falling into her face. “I live near here.”

“How lovely, really. Excuse me for a minute,” Brian forced a smile and gently pulled Roger aside before he leaned in close to him so he could be heard over the music. “You look like you’re about to drool all over this bird. We came here together, remember?”

Roger pretended to look offended. “What are you implying?” He was listening to his friend but he also couldn’t stop looking at Jess.

“I know you, Rog! You're really doing this? Are you sure you’re all right to be something this spontaneous? I’m almost afraid to leave you alone,” Brian spoke, concern in his voice.

Roger met his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay, Bri! I’ll be with her the whole time.”

“You trust her already? You’ve only known her for five minutes! You’re honestly going to go back home with her?”

“I’m fine, really,” Roger searched Brian’s skeptical eyes. “The three of us can still hang out together for now! Maybe she has a friend she can hook you up with?”

The guitarist scoffed, shaking his head. “Appreciate the offer but I’ll pass having a one night stand with a strange woman I don’t even know. This girl could be crazy, Brian. You _do_ realize that, yeah?”

“What?”

“A stalker, this Jess happened to bump into us after seeing us in our usual place before? Really? What are the odds of that happening by coincidence?”

Roger was surprised at Brian’s reluctance about the situation. He shook his head and sighed. “Look, you can leave if you want. I’ll be fine. I’ll be with her all evening, I’m sure. Just go.”

“No, I’m not leaving you here. You’re absolutely mad if you think I am! If you get pissed and she up and leaves you, then you’re stuck here. I’ll stay, thank you very much.”

“Fine! Do whatever you want. I’ll let you know where I am later,” Roger promised before going back over to Jess.

Brian watched the two of them for upwards of a couple hours, listening to the band that was playing, smoking, and having a couple beers. During that time Roger had barely drank at all but somehow, his arm had ended up around her shoulders and she was leaning against his body.

She leaned into his ear. “Let’s take a cab back to my place.”

Roger nodded in agreement. “Yeah, sure thing. Just let me talk to my friend for a minute. I’ll meet you out front,” she nodded and he watched as she smiled at him before making her way through the crowd. He walked over to Brian who seemed frustrated. “Hey, we’re leaving for her place!”

“Fucking brilliant, Rog. This isn’t you! You don’t do this kind of shit.”

Roger felt confused. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Coming here with me and then leaving with a woman! This isn’t you! This is shit that John would pull on me, but not you. This is a manifestation of your own fears and insecurities because of what happened!”

It was Roger’s turn to feel frustrated now. He shook his head in disbelief. “Fuck off, Brian. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me! You’re a fucking astrophysicist, not a therapist!”

“It doesn’t matter what I am, Roger! This isn’t the kind of person _you_ are! You don’t know anything about this girl! What if… what if something happens to you and I’m not there to help you?”

The drummer shrugged. “Then I guess I’m on my own again. Big surprise, yeah? I’ve always been on my fucking own!” Suddenly, a rage built up and exploded inside of him. “Where the fuck were you when I nearly got raped? Oh yeah, you were outside, chainsmoking! Real fucking great, Bri.”

The guitarist looked as if Roger had just punched him but he looked at him almost worriedly, despite their angry exchange. “Call me if you need me, mate. I don’t care what fucking time it is. Let me know where you are, if nothing else.”

Roger sighed but didn’t say anything as he made his way outside to where Jess was waiting for him. He felt a bit guilty about leaving Brian there alone, knowing that he’d never do that to him, but he just wanted to have one night where he could stop pretending to be OK, and let loose. He wanted to be like John and Freddie, who were more alike than they both cared to admit, able to do whatever they wanted without holding back.

It was his turn, for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Roger to be a little happy and don't ask why I didn't want Roger's actual girlfriend from the movie in it lol. I really don't know why but I just wanted an original character in it. I don't expect her to be it TOO much but hope she isn't too much!


	7. home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist doing another chapter, haha.

**.      .     .**

Roger looked beside him as he took a long drag from the cigarette and let it out slowly, watching Jess’s rhythmic, even breathing as she slept. The two of them had had a very enjoyable night together and he felt happier than he had felt in a long time.

Of course that happiness couldn’t last too long. He’d have to go back to the flat this morning to get ready for class, and he hadn’t even phoned to let Brian know he was okay. Roger wasn’t too sure how much the guitarist was going to care about him today, though. He sighed, finishing his cigarette before he put it out and stood up, starting to get changed in the dim light of the rising sun.

“Hey…” a small, tired voice whispered in the dark.

“I got to go back,” Roger explained, looking over at her. “Will I see you again?”

She sat up, bringing the sheets to cover her chest as she smiled at him. “I’ll make sure of it, Roger. Did you have a good time?”

He couldn’t help but smile back, nodding. “Yeah, it was nice… did… did you?”

She chuckled. “Of course I did. Thank you.” She turned the light on and glanced at the clock, Roger only now able to see that it was about six-thirty. She pointed to her lips, smirking mischievously.

The drummer chuckled now and leaned in before kissing her softly, feeling a warmth flood his chest. “Thank you as well, Jess. I’ll see you around then, I suppose?” His voice was filled with hope.

She nodded, still smiling.

“Excellent. Thanks again for the great night. I had fun,” Roger winked at her before kissing her cheek quickly and grabbed his coat, taking his leave.

When he was outside, he looked around, temporarily forgetting where exactly he was. When he gathered his bearings, he hailed a cab back to the flat. He fixed his hair in the cab and rubbed his eyes, not having gotten to sleep until a few hours earlier.

Once he reached the flat, he quietly opened the door, feeling like he was doing the walk of shame; he even still smelled like her perfume.

_Lovely, this should go over well._

It turns out he didn’t have a need to be quiet because he suddenly heard shouting coming from John’s room and heard three different voices.

“He’s still not back yet?” Freddie’s concerned voice.

“No! Of course he’s bloody not! He’s probably lying in a gutter out there somewhere!” Brian’s angry voice.

“Just relax, Bri. I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just went straight to the college or something.”

Roger took a deep breath before he walked down the hall and into John’s room. All three men turned their heads and looked at him in unison. Freddie instantly walked over to him and wrapped his arms around Roger’s body, relieved.

“Oh thank god! I’m so glad you’re all right, darling!”

Roger gently patted his back and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, Freddie.” Once the singer was convinced, he quickly headed towards the kitchen.

Brian was the first to say something. He walked over to him. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive. Are your fingers broken?”

Roger chuckled weakly, surprised by the question. “W-What…?”

“You could’ve phoned to let me know you were okay! Unless your fingers were broken, and if that’s the case, then you’re completely excused from this conversation! But, I can tell that you’re intact still, so what the hell, Roger?”

“It looks like you two need your privacy. Excuse me, mates,” John squeezed behind Roger to join Freddie in the kitchen.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right, Brian?”

“ _Is_ it, all right? Are you all right? I was up all night worrying about you! You should’ve phoned and told me where you were or at least that you were fine!” Roger shouted in frustration.

“Are you mad? You’re the one who told me that I needed time outside this place, away from Freddie and John, remember? Well, guess what, Bri? This is my time outside of this place! What do you think would’ve happened to me with her? You think that _she_ would’ve tried to rape me?!”

Brian seemed to have lost full steam as soon as Roger threw his own words back at him. He sighed. “Women can do it too, mate. I just… I was worried about you, that’s all. Anything could’ve happened and I wouldn’t have been there to help you.”

Roger now also seemed to calm down a little, quiet for a long time. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded in understanding. He knew his friend had his best interests at heart but he had to also understand that he couldn’t tell him one thing, and then get angry when he actually followed his advice.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Brian, but I really am okay. You’re right; I should’ve phoned but… to be honest, Jess and I were having so much fun that it completely slipped my mind.”

Brian searched Roger’s face and nodded. “You’re right too, Rog. I told you to spend time outside of here, and you did, and… I shouldn’t have gotten upset about it. You deserve to have a life outside of the band.”

“Thank you,” the drummer put his hand out. “Are we all good?”

Brian shook it once, nodding. “Yeah, of course we’re fine.  Come on, I smell coffee.”

Roger followed him into the kitchen where the rest of the members were sitting and either eating, drinking coffee, or reading the paper. Things still felt tense between him and Brian but he knew it would all blow over by the end of the day. They just needed a few hours apart to cool off.

“Did you boys kiss and make up?” Freddie asked as soon as Roger grabbed his coffee and sat down.

Brian glanced up but didn’t say anything.

“We’re fine, Fred. No worries.”

The singer nodded in acknowledgement. “Good. It would have been terrible if you two were to fight during our next gig night.”

This caused Brian to look up now. “What are you talking about?”

Freddie looked like he was trying to suppress a grin before he lay down a flyer that read:

_WANTED_

_OPENING BAND TO PLAY AT LEAST SIX SONGS TO MAKE_ _£700_

_WHERE: THE SWEENEY_

_WHEN: NOVEMBER 9 th @ 7pm_

_INQUIRE BEFORE THE 8 th_

Brian raised his eyebrows. “The 9th? That’s two days away…”

“I know, darling! Isn’t this great news?”

“Erm, Freddie,” John suddenly spoke up. “It’s pretty short notice. How do you know they don’t already have an opening band?”

The singer shrugged but was still smirking. “I called them, Deaky.”

“Hold on, you called them? Without asking us about it first?” There was a slight edge to Brian’s voice but he looked at Freddie steadily.

“I didn’t think it’d be a problem, Brian. Is it? Should I have talked to you about it first before booking us the gig?”

“You booked it? We’re in? Are you bloody serious right now, Fred?”

“I’m afraid so, darling,” he grinning at Brian now in amusement. “I thought this was good news! Why are you all looking like I just told you Robert Plant died?”

Roger was barely listening anymore. He had stopped listening as soon as the flyer had mentioned the location of the gig. Once he heard that part, his brain tuned out. He was already shaking his head no silently.

Brian watched him do this and Roger glanced up at him to see a conflicted look on his face. He knew the guitarist well enough to know that Brian wanted to do this gig, but the conflict on his face told him that he knew he shouldn’t want to do it at the same time.

John took a sip of his coffee, looking at all of them. “We’re playing there, aren’t we? I mean, we’re doing this, right?”

Freddie looked between his guitarist and his drummer. “Well, _are_ we, darlings? Anyway, €700 for six songs? I think that’s quite a steal.”

“Freddie, I don’t think we should play there anymore. After what happened to Rog there, I’m torn about it, to be honest. Just because we didn’t see him there last time, doesn’t mean he doesn’t go there a few times a week,” Brian pointed out.

“True,” Freddie nodded. “I don’t mean to be insensitive or anything, of course dears, but… the only way to make it up in this world is to play the small places first. Then, we’ll gradually move up to bigger venues with a wider fan base.”

Brian slammed his fist down on the table hard, spilling everyone’s coffee a bit as the table vibrated from the impact. “We have! We’ve played that place to death! I’m sick and tired of always fucking playing in that shithole! I’m sick of that place, period. I’m sorry, Freddie, but I’m not doing it. I can’t.”

He knew he was being dramatic but he couldn’t stay to listen to Freddie’s rationale any longer so he stood up, grabbed his bag by the door and hurried outside to catch a cab. He started pacing to try to calm himself down, clenching and unclenching his fists as he thought about everything that had happened in that place.

There were people who had seem him incapacitated on the floor of the men’s bathroom, having a panic attack. If that fucker showed his face again, he felt like he’d be the first one to be hauled off in handcuffs for punching it in over and over again. That’s how he felt at the moment, of course.

Brave.

He knew what would really happen if he saw that guy again; he’d be paralyzed with white hot fear and shear panic.

“Rog!” Brian had come out in his pajamas, a cigarette between his lips as he put less distance between himself and the drummer. “Let’s talk.”

“What is there to talk about? Freddie already booked it for us!”

“Yeah, and you just told all of us you aren’t going to be there. I think that’s something to talk about.”

Roger sighed, shaking his head. “No, I’m not going. I can’t even go inside the sodding bathroom without having a panic attack… how the hell am I expected to play six songs?!”

Brian took a drag before he handed it to Brian who did the same. He moved closer to him. “I know you’re sick of this place, we all are. I know you’re scared to go back in there because you think He will be there but… we’re all going to be right there with you. You won’t be going anywhere inside alone, and I hate to say it, but… Freddie’s right. In order to play other places, we need to start with the lowest of the low first. We’ll eventually work our way up, and… playing here is only temporary, yeah?”

Roger took this in and took another drag off the cigarette before he handed it back to his friend, starting to calm down. “It feels never ending. I’m just… tired, Brian. I’m tired of this place.”

Brian nodded. “I know the feeling, but… that girl Jess said she saw us there, right? Maybe she’ll be there again and you’ll see her?”

He knew Brian was just trying to push him to play there but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to see her again. Roger swallowed hard, reluctantly nodding.

“We need you, Rog. Not just because we could use the money for rent and groceries, but… we’re not Queen without you. Freddie’s got the voice but you’ve got the talent. We all make up this band and for better or worse, we need each other to be there to play, every time,” Brian searched Roger’s eyes. “So please, will you be there tomorrow night?”

Roger hated the power his friend had over him. He knew that the man wasn’t purposely trying to manipulate or guilt trip him because he knew he meant every word. It was sincere and it came from a good place, and he was right: they could really use the money. It seemed like a lot (and it wasn’t far stretched to say that was the most they will have ever gotten from a gig before), but most of it was going towards the rent so in the end, they’d only have enough for basically groceries, cab fares, and maybe a few records.

The more he thought about their current situation, the less upset Roger found himself. They really did need the money and to pay that much for only six songs may have proved how desperate the place was for an opening gig for the night.

Maybe it really was a blessing in disguise that Freddie had gone behind their backs and called to confirm Queen would be there. Well, the name wasn’t official yet. They’d be known as Smile still, but the band members referred to themselves as Queen still regardless.

“I have to get ready for class, and you should too. Afterwards, let’s meet back here to practice some, okay?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, right. Sure.”

“Good. See you later, Rog.”

“See you later.”

 

**….. ….. ….. … …… … …… …**

Roger admittedly sped through his practice exams in the library and finished writing all his papers that were due for the week on Friday just to keep himself distracted.

He couldn’t let himself think about their gig tomorrow night or else he’d go into a fit of panic attacks again. He focused on what every single tooth was called, how deep the roots of each teeth were, how many and how many nerves were in the human jaw.

When it came time to leave, he printed everything off, grabbed his bag, and hurried back home, feeling eager to practice.

The members tried to soundproof the flat as much as they could and even though he knew that it wasn’t all that professionally well-done, at least the neighbors were kind enough not to complain too much.

Roger walked through the door to see that Freddie and John had both set up their equipment to save time. He dropped his bag and went to sit behind his drums, starting to hit them rhythmically in a _one, one, two_ beat to get the feel of them again. He had been drumming for about fifteen minutes before he saw Brian walk through the door, looking exhausted but also eager to practice.

“Have a change of heart then, Rog?” Freddie walked inside the room with a bottle of water in his hand, taking a drink of it.

“Yeah, I’m with you guys for tomorrow,” he nodded, not stopping his beat until Brian picked up his guitar and started to strum it to get it in tune. “Wait a minute – we don’t have six songs written yet. What are we going to play for the last two, Freddie?”

This seemed to be Brian and John’s question as well since they both glanced over at the singer to hear the answer.

“I figured we’d start with two Zeppelin covers, and then move into our own songs, darlings.”

“Which songs? We’re not going to have a lot of time up on that stage, Fred,” John pointed out as he started tuning his bass.

“Communication Breakdown,” Freddie answered before taking another drink of water. “And Immigrant Song. They’re the two more well-known songs out right now and they’re the shortest. I figured they’d be the best ones to cover. Anyone going to argue with me about it or can we bloody play now?”

He looked around at his fellow band mates, all of whom shook their heads and shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” Roger replied, lighting up another cigarette before placing it between his lips so he could play.

“All right, then. We’ll practice those first, and then we’ll practice our four songs,” Freddie announced. “So, we’ll do Communication Breakdown first.”

“And a 1… 2… 3.”

The band played until almost eleven when they finally decided to take a break for the night. Brian’s wrists felt sore but his mind was still distracted. He felt good just because it had felt so good to play again. He was doing what he loved, and what he was best at. He felt like he was in his comfort zone when he was playing drums.

He stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed before Brian joined him a few minutes later, the two men sighing in relief as soon as their bodies hit the mattress. They were quiet for several minutes, their eyes closed as they relaxed.

“I can’t wait to play again in front of a crowd. The energy’s electric.”

Roger smirked to himself, thinking about how much he also enjoyed playing. He just hoped they wouldn’t have to cut the gig short a second time because of him. He knew this was important for them, and they needed to do this.

“I can’t wait either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO to everyone who is commenting, I'd appreciate your input! 
> 
> If you want Roger to be happy with Jess, comment with "HAPPY" either above or under your own comments!   
> If you want some drama to happen, and would like Jess to be bad and not in it long, then please comment with "DRAMA"
> 
> I'm leaving it up to you guys but let me know in this chapter in your comments please!! If no one replies with either a "HAPPY" or "DRAMA" then she might end up being bad, haha. The comments with the most "happy" or "drama"s will be the winner. Thank you!


	8. return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is my duty to report the winner:
> 
> HAPPY - 2  
> DRAMA - 6
> 
> Drama has won but fear not, my 'happy' people, I did promise a happy ending for Roger, and you shall receive it still! Also, it gave me an idea for another BoRaP fanfic so be on the lookout for that once this one is done! 
> 
> Thank you everyone for your replies and comments! As always, I am humbled. Thanks again! Please keep commenting!

**.    .    .**

Roger barely got any sleep last night as he thought about their gig tomorrow and everything it would entail. It could be their last time to play in that god-forsaken tavern. Their pay was increasing ever so slowly, and soon they would be done playing in that place for good. It also meant facing his fears and... That Man.

That Man who had hurt him, and made panic rise up inside of his chest. If he went there once, odds were decent he’d be there again, right?

Then his thoughts turned to Jess.

The beautiful, gorgeous Jess who made his heart race every time he saw her. He felt like he had memorized every beauty mark on her body, every freckle. He had been with women before but for some reason, he found her special. Even just her touch on his skin gave him goosebumps.

He smiled to himself as he finally forced himself out of bed and got dressed before he walked out to the kitchen to see Brian.

“All right, Rog?” The guitarist had looked up from the paper, a black pen in his hand.

Roger nodded tiredly and walked over to the coffee machine. “Yeah, I suppose. You?”

“Yep. It felt good to play again, didn’t it?” Brian smiled, not so much a question than a statement. The drummer sat down at the table and leaned over.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, just… circling possible future gigs we can play at after tomorrow. I know the two of us are sick to death of playing at The bloody Sweeney constantly,” Brian answered, shrugging. “Thought a new venue would do us good.”

“At least we’re getting paid better to play there. What’d you find? What other places?” Roger took a sip of his coffee.

Brian turned the paper and Roger could now see two large circles around two locations: Royal Albert Hall and The Speakeasy.

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Albert Hall? That’s near your university, Brian.”

The guitarist shrugged. “Yeah? So what?”

“You want to play for a bunch of uni wankers who can barely afford to put petrol in their cars?” Brian chuckled and shook his head but Roger went on. “That won’t be a paying gig, you can count on that.”

“Rog,” Brian moved the paper closer to him and underlined something. “Look at this. They _are_ paying. It’s not a lot, true, but it’s still something, yeah? We literally cannot afford to be greedy right now. It’ll still keep us fed and our thirsts quenched.”

Roger sighed, looking at the meager pay before nodding reluctantly. “Yeah, okay. Fine, you’re right. It’s just… frustrating playing all these small time gigs.” He finished his coffee and put it in the sink as Freddie and John both came out.

“Off to class, darlings?”

Roger lit up a cigarette and shook his head. “Brian is, not me.”

Brian cocked his head in surprise not. “Oy, where the hell are you off to, then?”

“Jess’s flat. I decided I’d rather hang out with her today than waste my time sitting in classes all sodding day.”

Freddie smirked knowingly. “What do you get done being with her, I wonder?”

Roger wasn’t sure what he was feeling with her because he hadn’t ever experienced it with another woman before, but his heart was telling him it could be love. If this was what love felt like, then he never wanted this feeling to end.

“So you’re going to spend all day there with her then? We have a gig to practice for,” John remarked suddenly.

“Brian’s going to class –“

“Brian’s not going to class today,” the guitarist said sharply, referring to himself in third person now. “Brian’s staying here to practice, and you should too. We need to be ready.”

Roger was surprised at his friend’s sternness. “And I will be! I just want to hang out with my girlfriend today. Is that all right with you, Bri?”

Brian’s eyes widened. “ _Girlfriend_? Wow, I don’t think I have ever heard you refer to any woman as your girlfriend before.”

“Which is why I’m doing it today! It’s rare for me to feel like this! I thought you guys would be happy for me…”

“We _are_ happy for you, darling,” Freddie spoke, warmth in his eyes.

Roger sighed heavily and took another drag before he looked over at Brian. “Really? Well, could have fooled me.” He slammed the door on his way out before he exhaled the smoke and hailed a cab to Jess’s flat.

When he knocked on the door, it was only a few seconds before it opened and a slender arm reached out and gently pulled him inside before closing it again.

Roger looked around at the disarray in the flat, looking like a total 180 from how it looked last time he had been here. He looked at her for the first time since entering and Jess looked in the same disarray.

“What… what happened? Are you all right?”

Jess looked anxious, her hands trembling as she tried to hide them behind her back. “Y-Yeah, I just… you came unexpectedly, Roger. If I-I had known you’d be coming around, I would’ve c-cleaned up the place better. Umm… m-make yourself at home. I’m just going to jump in the shower real quick, yeah?”

Roger searched her face and nodded, watching her disappear from the room and into the loo. He looked around, casually picking up clothes off the floor in a feeble attempt to help her. He made it over to a deep armchair and grabbed the jacket off of it, his heart sinking when he saw what was hiding underneath.

It was a coke mirror with the white powder remnants dusted on it. He swallowed hard, dropping the jacket and shaking his head, refusing to believe what he was seeing.

_God, why didn’t he see this shit the night she had taken him here? Why hadn’t he noticed it the next morning?_

_He hadn’t been looking for it._

The answer was almost too obvious. Roger was completely oblivious. He was so wrapped up in her beauty and the way she made him feel that he didn’t see her flaws.

He glanced at the bathroom, hearing the shower shut off and saw her walk out in a towel. When she took it off to put a robe on inside, he realized just how slender she was.

She looked malnourished and pale, her hands still shaking. He had seen this before.

“What’s this, then?” He felt betrayed and angry.

“W-What do you m-mean, Roger? The chair?” She chuckled nervously.

Roger threw the jacket he had taken off the chair onto the bed before he lifted the mirror up. “No, this shite. You do this? You snort this powder up your nose, Jess?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes… Roger, I don’t k-know why you’re so upset. Everyone does it.”

He slammed the mirror back down on the bed, shaking his head. “No, not everyone does it. So where’d you get it from? Are you selling this junk too?”

She looked surprised he was so angry about the situation. How could she not be surprised though? She didn’t know the whole truth about him.

“I got it from a friend! I might’ve sold some of it, yeah… what difference does it make? You’re not my father, Roger. What I do with my body and my life is my business, not yours. I thought you wouldn’t care…”

Roger fought the urge to flip the nearest table with great difficulty. “Wouldn’t care? Are you mad?” He ran a hand through his hair and suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. “Who did you sell it to?”

She chuckled again, shaking her head in confusion. “W-What…?”

He walked up to her quickly now and stared at her with hard eyes. “Who. Did. You. Sell. It. To? Just fucking tell me, Jess. I need to know and then you’ll never see me again.”

“Wait, but I want to see you again, Roger! What is this about…?”

“Tell me, Jess! Please. I just… I need to know!”

She shook her head, getting frustrated herself. “Fine! I sold some to John! Are you happy now that you know? I sold it to him…”

His fears came true and he grabbed the mirror and threw it against the wall, watching it break before he turned to her. “You bitch. I can’t fucking believe this… fuck!”

He started towards the door but she grabbed his arm to stop him. “Wait! I’m sorry, Roger. Please… please don’t leave. I’ll stop if that’s what you want! I just… I barely knew who any of you were back before when I gave it to him!”

He turned to look at her. “Oh, so that makes it okay to be asshole, then? Do me a favor, and never fucking talk to me again, Jess. Stay the hell away from John and the rest of us! Don’t even come to our show tomorrow!”

Roger opened the door and slammed it shut before he stormed out of the apartment, running a hand through his hair. He knew he needed to get out of there before he completely lost it with her. He wasn’t sure that he’d actually hurt her or anything but he knew for sure he’d trash her flat if he stayed any longer.

He paced for a bit outside, trying to calm himself down.

 _How could she fucking do this to him? Worse yet, how could she had sold that shit to Deaky?_  She was the reason he had to detox in the first place. This woman was the reason why they had to deal with John being the way he was for months.

When he could breathe properly again, he hailed a cab and took it home. When he arrived, he entered the flat and saw his friends practicing, stopping midway through “Keep Yourself Alive” to look at him.

“We thought you were going to see Jess?” John questioned.

Roger walked around them and sat down at his drum kit that was still set up from last night. “I did. I decided I’d rather be here. So… from the top?”

Freddie exchanged somewhat concerned looks with both John and Brian before he nodded. “Yes, darling. From the top.”

They practiced for about three hours before they decided to break for a late dinner. Freddie made a pasta dish for the boys and the four of them sat in the living room around the television.

Roger poked at his pasta noodles, not feeling very hungry.

Freddie looked over at Roger. “So are you going to tell us what happened at this woman’s flat, or are you going to be a miserable bitch all night?”

John smirked, but Brian looked concerned.

Roger glanced up, knowing he should tell his bandmates the truth about Jess but he couldn’t. He felt guilty and responsible for John doing coke, his now ex-girlfriend having sold it him. He couldn’t tell them about the confrontation; he felt like they might blame him for how John ended up. Roger knew it seemed silly but he didn’t want to hear it from them.

This felt like his problem to handle on his own. He had brought Jess into their lives like a plague. Even if she didn’t know who John was before when she had sold the junk too him, Roger still felt angry and blamed himself.

“I think I’ll just be a miserable bitch all night, thanks, Freddie,” he set his bowl aside and took a swig of the beer instead.

“Suit yourself, darling. Just trying to help.”

Roger closed his eyes. “Please stop,” when he opened his eyes, he saw Brian eyeing him suspiciously. He forced himself to look at the telly again, taking longer and longer pulls off his beer.

No one really said anything else to him for about an hour when they all decided to head off to bed. Roger had finished off a second beer and watched as Freddie and Brian walked to their bedrooms respectively but noticed John was looking at him anxiously.

“What’s on your mind, John?”

The bassist looked hesitant but he glanced around to see if anyone else was in the room with them before he looked back at Roger. “Umm… are we all right, Rog? Are you still upset about my getting high before? I promise that I’m clean proper now. I haven’t had any in a couple weeks now…”

Roger felt the guilt flood higher inside of him now as he listened to his friend ramble for a bit. He swallowed hard and walked closer to his friend. He searched his face.

“We’re fine, John. Really… I just… I’m just tired, but I’m proud of you, you know? For not using anymore. I’m just… sorry that you had to be tempted with all of it in the first place,” Roger replied, trying not to look as sad as he felt.

John’s eyebrows came together in confusion before he looked at him. “Why… are you sorry? It was… my own fault. I bought it in the first place,” he took a deep breath and bit his lip. “I don’t know why but I guess maybe I wanted more energy? I thought it would… help me play better or something. I know it sounds like I’m just making up excuses but I wanted you to know my… rationale behind using it. Why I did it. You’re one of my best friends and I treated you like shit before and I’m just… I’m sorry.”

If the drummer thought he felt guilty before, it was nothing to how he felt now. He could feel the tears brimming in his eyes and took a shaky breath, shaking his head dismissively.

“No, I’m… I’m sorry you had to go through all of it. I’m sorry you felt alone, Deaky. I appreciate it but… you don’t need to apologize to me. We’re fine, yeah?”

John nodded now and gave a smile. “Good. Thanks, Rog. Goodnight.”

“Night, John.” Roger watched the bassist leave towards the room and Roger headed to his own room. He rubbed his face in exhaustion and distress.

Brian was sitting on the bed with his study papers and books spread out but moved some so Roger could get into bed and sleep comfortably. The two men were quiet as Roger got undressed and crawled into the bed but he was staring at all of the textbooks laid out.

Brian glanced back at him.  “Ready to talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about,” Rog said instantly.

Brian let it alone for about fifteen minutes but then couldn’t seem to contain himself anymore. “Whatever’s bothering you, you need to swallow it down for our gig tomorrow, or tell me so I can help you. Not to sound insensitive but… we need to perform tomorrow and we can’t afford to have you falling apart.”

“Like I did last time, that’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

Brian sighed, straightening up in bed to look at him. “Is that what you want me to say? Fine, like last time. We’ve barely got any food in the place, and we need the money for groceries. It’s not even about fame or whatever, Rog. It’s about necessity.”

“I know. I know we need food, the cupboards are nearly bare. Trust me, I know how important this gig is.”

“Roger, remember that I’m always here, if you need to talk or vent or anything,” he searched the drummer’s eyes almost desperately.

He knew that Brian could see through him. It bothered him he had to lie to the man but he didn’t want anyone’s sympathy right now; as far as he was concerned, he didn’t deserve it. He _did_ deserve, however, to feel this agony.

“I know. Thank you, Bri. I just… I’m fine.”

“Of course you are,” Brian sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re always ‘fine.’ I just want you to be more than ‘fine.’ That’s all, Rog.”

Roger could feel a headache forming. “We need to get some sleep.”

“Are you going to class tomorrow?”

Roger honestly hadn’t thought about it but he knew the answer that his friend wanted to hear. “Yes, Brian. I’m going.”

“Good. I am too. We’ll go to class in the morning and then we’ll have a few hours to practice some more before the gig.”

“Great,” Roger replied, turning over onto his side, just wanting this day to be over. “Night.”

There was a small pause before he heard Brian’s voice.

“Goodnight, Rog.”

 

 

**…. ….. … ….. …. … …… …. …**

Roger decided he had nothing better to do all day the next morning so he chose to go to his university after Brian left for his. He knew if he didn’t go, then he’d just be lazing around the flat, feeling sorry for himself, drinking himself silly all day, and then most likely be incapacitated to play later on.

It was best if he distracted himself right now. He never forgot about the incident with Jess, though; the guilt just got pushed down inside of him, but the level of it was ever increasing every time he thought about John.

He was almost excited when he got back home and began practicing with the guys right before the gig, until it was about half an hour in, and his mind wasn’t in the moment with the rest of them.

“Hold up, hold up,” Brian interrupted Freddie and John, ceasing playing. He turned back to look at Roger, an irritated look on his face. “Where are you right now, Rog, because you certainly aren’t here with us.”

The drummer leaned down and grabbed a cigarette before he lit it and looked at them. “Sorry, what song are we on right now?”

“‘Killer Queen,’ darling,” Freddie answered calmly. “You know, what I am.” He winked at the drummer coyly.

Roger smirked weakly back and lit the cigarette before he nodded. “All right. Ready, let’s do it.”

Brian gave him a casual look of warning before he looked forward as Freddie started his snaps and his opening part.

Roger forced himself to be in the moment again with the rest of the band, only missing a couple beats here and there. By the time they were done practicing, they barely had time to hang out before they had to start packing up and load it in the van to get to The Sweeney.

Roger felt butterflies in his stomach as they entered, feeling like they were playing here for the first time all over again. They set up quickly and Roger scanned the room for The Man and for Jess but didn’t see either of them.

At least not yet. He forced himself to clear his mind for now and started drumming quietly as the others started tuning up their own instruments. The crowd started to clap when they heard them, which gave Roger a little bit of ease.

He remembered how their set list was supposed to be last time, and safely assumed they would use it for this time, two covers first, then their four original songs.

Freddie came on and instantly grabbed the mic out of its stand as a sort of preemptive strike before he glanced at Roger and winked at him, smiling warmly before nodding. That had become Roger’s cue. He took a deep breath and instantly started drumming the intro to “Immigrant Song,” his arms quickly feeling like they were going to fall off.

He had only practiced this song a few times and he was familiar enough with it, but didn’t like the way it made his wrists and arms feel.

The crowd cheered, instantly recognizing the popular Zeppelin song before they took a beat and then went into “Communication Breakdown.” Roger was able to relax a few minutes before the next song so he grabbed a bottle of water from beside him and took a long drink from it, feeling sweat beading his forehead.

Brian glanced over at him to check on him and gave him a thumbs up but Roger knew it was a question. The drummer gave him a thumbs up back before he lit a cigarette, feeling the usual drag of nicotine withdrawal start to hit him already. He took a drag from him before he got ready for the next few songs.

“Look at all you beautiful people,” Freddie chatted with the crowd, who seemed energetic and welcoming as they cheered and clapped. “All right, if you’ve been here any of the thousand times we’ve played here, then you’ll know this song as ‘Keep Yourself Alive.’”

Brian started the intro before he started his part, half listening to Freddie start singing as he danced around. His energy was almost contagious.

Roger had successfully made it through five songs when he saw a familiar figure walk through the crowd. He felt his breath catch when he saw him and felt himself pale.

_Fuck. That fucker was actually here again._

“Roger, you all right?” Brian asked, looking his way, Freddie and John also both doing the same.

 _Shit, he must have missed his cue. What song were they on now? Oh fuck, okay._      He started drumming to their more popular song with the small places, ‘We Will Rock You.’

The audience seemed unfazed by the late reaction; they were stamping their feet and clapping in rhythm with his drumming. He tried to ignore the fact he had just seen his attacker and concentrated on the song.

It was a short one so he focused as hard as he could but he knew his hands were shaking. Once it was over, the crowd cheered loudly for them before they eventually went back to their friends and drinks while the overhead PA blasted their own music now.

He thought about telling them That Man was here right now, lingering in the crowd, but no. He wasn’t their problem. He was Roger’s. He didn’t want to involve them in this shit storm. Roger got up from the drum set walked around before he stood by Brian, trying to look casual as he lit a cigarette but he knew that it was a mistake to try to light it in front of him.

The guitarist looked worriedly at his friend before he took his own lighter out of his pocket and lit the cigarette quickly for Roger, leaning in.

“Hey, Rog. You okay? What’s wrong?”

Roger barely heard him as he tried not to panic, nodding out of habit. “I just… I need some fresh air, that’s all.”

Brian straightened as he took off his guitar and set it down next to the drum. “Here, I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Roger said firmly, maybe too firmly. “I just… want to be alone, if that’s all right. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Don’t be silly, darling. We’re going with you,” the singer declared.

Roger knew it was a mistake telling them all about the attack. Now they were too wise to leave him alone. Normally he wouldn’t want to be alone right now, but he desperately needed fresh air before he passed out.

He shook his head and hurriedly made his way through the crowd, not waiting to look back to see if any of the members were following him. Right now, he didn’t care and a small part hoped they did, but as soon as he made it outside, he put his cigarette out; that definitely wouldn’t help him breathe.

He walked towards the side of the building, knowing he could at least get some privacy there if they did follow him out.

He was out there for several moments when he heard a voice that made his toes curl and his back stiffen.

“Well, well well. A little bird told me you’d be here tonight… had to see it with my own eyes but my God, here you are. I think we should pick up where we left off last time, don’t you?”


	9. injustice

**.     .    .**

Roger turned his head but he instantly felt rough lips on his own, before he felt his belt come undone. He was in so much shock at first that his brain wasn’t processing the situation. He felt rough hands squeeze his body tightly as they caressed his skin, and felt scratches run down his back.

“G-Get off me!” he half cried out, half shouted. “GET OFF! STOP IT!”

It was when he felt his face be pressed hard against the cold, damp brick building when he felt hot panic fill him up entirely. He gasped for air, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He heard his shirt tear down his back in his own struggle against the Man.

His thoughts were working at maximum speed to catch up with his brain.

_A little bird told me you’d be playing tonight._

_Jess._ It had to be Jess. That’d mean –

He felt tears running down his face but he didn’t think it was out of fear anymore, although he was feeling that still. This emotion at the moment was rage, though.

_Pure rage._

He elbowed the Man hard before he shoved him away as hard as he could, hearing him gasp for air. He must have knocked the wind out of him. Roger suddenly started to punch him in his blind anger and felt stupid for crying at the same time. He punched him over and over again until he suddenly felt multiple sets of arms grab him and pull him off.

He went to turn on his new attackers, nearly hitting one of their jaws when he realized they were his own bandmates. He felt Brian’s arms around him tightly, holding him to calm him and also holding him back from attacking The Man.

He shoved himself away, looking between all of them, feeling like a wild animal, hot tears running down his cheeks.

“H-He did it…” was all he could make out as he sobbed. “H-He attacked me last t-time!”

“Oh well in that case, Rog, let me take a crack at him,” Brian moved away from the drummer and landed a kick hard in the attacker’s ribs, all of them hearing a sickening _crack_.

“I believe we should get out of here now, darlings… we’ve done enough damage to him. Let’s go home. I’ve already loaded the equipment up.”

Roger walked over to the Man and spit on him before he let Brian pull him away towards the van. He didn’t feel like he had earned enough pain but he also didn’t want to be tried for murder. Who knew if his lover was here as well, or if he had more friends waiting inside?

Obviously it wouldn’t be a good idea to stick around to find out.

He felt incredibly exhausted as the guys helped him inside the van, fixing his belt again as he leaned against the interior, closing his eyes, his hands shaking with rage.

“Rog…?” Brian tried.

“Y-Yeah?” his voice came out in a whisper as he started to catch his breath, swallowing hard before he reluctantly opened his eyes.

“Did he…?” His voice was hesitant as it trailed off, perhaps unsure how to put it delicately. “Did he attack you again? I mean… did he…”

“Did he rape me?” Roger suddenly asked, finishing the question for him. When he saw Brian nod, Roger shook his head. “No. H-He didn’t get that far. Pretty much as far a-as he got last time.” He hated himself for letting his voice shake so much.

“Good,” Freddie declared as he glanced over at John in the driver seat. He looked back at Roger. “I’m so sorry that it took us so long to come out, darling. Truly, I am.”

He could hear the genuine regret in the singer’s voice. “It’s okay, Fred,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about it.”

The drummer glanced over at Brian who was watching him intently, carefully, knowing that it would be only a matter of time before Roger completely lost it when they got home. He knew his friend was a ticking bomb waiting to go off. He knew his anger. Roger could tell Brian knew that this wasn’t over, and that he wasn’t okay.

The four men rode back home in silence but Brian and Freddie both agreed to help Roger get inside as John unloaded the instruments. The drummer didn’t want to admit he needed the steady hands but his own body was so filled with adrenaline that he was found his hands trembling again.

He took a deep breath and once they had made it inside the safety of the flat, he suddenly started to sob, his hands unclenching and clenching into tight fists, feeling the rage unleash inside of him again as his thoughts caught up with him again.

“Roger…” Brian said in a warning tone.

The drummer roughly wiped away his tears right before he suddenly kicked the coffee table and flipped it on its side, kicking it again and feeling pain shoot up his foot. “That fucking bitch!! It was her! She was fucking working with that wanker the whole goddamn time!” he shouted to no one in particular.

“Who, darling?”

“Jess…” Brian answered knowingly. “How do you know, though, Rog?”

The drummer paced around the room, trying to calm himself down. “I-I told her we were performing t-tonight…”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Rog,” Freddie interjected now, taking a step towards him. “He could have seen the ad in the paper for the gig tonight.”

Roger was already shaking his head in disagreement before Freddie had finished his sentence. “H-He said a bird told him I’d be here tonight. There is… _no one_ else who could’ve told h-him,” his voice shook again. “I-It was her…”

The boys moved out of the way as John brought in their instruments one by one before he finally joined them, everyone silent for a good ten minutes as they let Roger cry and vent.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Freddie offered.

“Me too, Rog,” John moved closer to the drummer, as did Brian.

Roger ran his hands through his hair and swallowed back his sob as he finally began to calm down. He let out one last kick at the turned over coffee table before he turned away from his bandmates and started for the loo. He felt sore and exhausted and wanted to clean himself off, needing to see the damage that was inflicted upon him this time.

_This time._

At least this time would be the last time. He knew they had left the guy with at least a broken rib, so maybe he’d think twice about cornering Roger again.

 He closed the door but didn’t lock it, not wanting to hear any of the guys complain in case they had to go. He groaned as he stripped off his torn shirt, throwing it in the nearby trash before taking off the rest of his clothes and ran a bath; his legs felt like jelly and he didn’t trust himself to stand up for ten minutes.

Roger closed the curtain and lay down as soon as the hot water was ready. He started to wash his body with the soap before rinsing. He thought about laying on his back again but remembered how much the scratches burned. Instead, he brought his knees close to his body and closed his eyes tightly.

It wasn’t long before he found himself crying again, feeling absolutely fucking betrayed by the first woman who made him believe that it could have been love.

Then a knock came on the door and Roger coughed to cover up his sobs and wiped his face roughly. “Yeah, come in.”

He heard footsteps before he heard the door close again, then footsteps that stopped right next to the bathtub. The person sat down in front of the toilet, or on it.

“Hey, mate…”

_Brian._

“Hey,” he whispered.

A few beats of silence. Then, “I… I brought you a pair of pajama bottoms. Is it all right if we talk?”

Roger nodded until he realized how stupid that was since the guitarist couldn’t see him. “Yeah, sure.”

Brian slowly opened the shower curtain, but only far enough to see his friend’s face and smiled weakly. He looked down at his hands. “How’re you feeling? Honestly.”

“Angry,” Roger whispered again, as if he was afraid to speak above a certain octave, and if he did, then it would make everything real. “My back hurts, my face hurts… I’m tired. I don’t know, Bri. What do you want me to say?”

The other man shook his head. “No, that’s… that’s fine. I just want the truth, that’s all. Were you telling the truth earlier in the van when you said that that guy didn’t… rape you?”

Roger looked up and glanced over at him. “Yeah, it was the truth. He didn’t. I think he would’ve though if…” he trailed off.

“If you hadn’t hurt him back,” Brian finished for him. “You did the right thing, don’t let anyone tell you different, mate. It was self-defense –"

“Are you here to say how you were right? Did you want to hear it from me?”

Brian searched his face. “What?”

Roger shook his head in disbelief before he chuckled humorlessly. “You were suspicious of her when you first met her, remember? You couldn’t believe it was just a coincidence that she turned up at that place when she saw us at The Sweeney. Well, I guess you _were_ right, weren’t you? How could you see it and not me?”

He wasn’t sure if he was angry at Brian for it or not but he felt mostly anger at himself for not having felt the same intuition.

Things seemed to click now for the guitarist and he looked away momentarily before he shook his head. “I think it’s because… you felt something that you weren’t used to feeling, Rog. You’ve been with women before but she made you feel different, didn’t she?”

Roger reluctantly nodded, feeling tears in his eyes again. He looked away so the other man wouldn’t see him crying like a little baby.

“You saw what you wanted to see in her, I think. You weren’t thinking the same thing as I was; My gut was telling me one thing, yours was telling you something different entirely,” Brian explained. “Can you… tell me what happened earlier, when you went to Jess’s? I mean… you probably told her to come to the gig tonight, right? From what I gathered in the living room earlier…”

Roger sniffled, looking down at his red knuckles that still had The Man’s blood on them. He started to rub them hard. “I-I… had told her _not_ to come to the gig tonight. We… got into a bit of a row earlier at her flat.”

This made Brian look over at him, searching the drummer’s face, leaning in. “What do you mean? What happened, Rog?”

He sighed heavily, quiet for a long time. Was he really going to tell him right now? It’s not like it changed anything anyway. It was still his problem.

“Rog,” Brian tried again. “Talk to me.”

Roger took a breath before he forced himself to look at his friend again, realizing how close they were now. “I went around her flat and… I was just… picking up things, helping her tidy up, like. Everything was a mess, and she… s-she looked awful. I mean, she was still beautiful but… something was different, you know? Anyway, I was walking around and… I grabbed a shirt off of this chair and… there was a mirror underneath it, with… with coke on it,” he swallowed hard.

Brian tensed now and moved away a little. “S-So? Anyone can… anyone can get coke around here, Roger. I mean, it might not mean anything.”

“Stop, Bri. You don’t have to tell me that just to make me feel better about her. I asked her who she sold it to, and… she confessed, Brian. She told me that she sold to John,” he took a shaky breath.

Brian’s eyes widened a bit before he looked at him. “Then what?”

“I told her not come to the show. I told her I didn’t want to see her again, and for her to stay away from John. She must have told that motherfucker though that we were playing because… he specifically said ‘a little bird’ told him. It had to be her.”

Brian nodded in agreement. “Why would they be working together though? What do they get out of you being there?”

Roger scrubbed harder at his knuckles, having already figured it out. “He gets… me, and she gets to sell more drugs to John.” He felt sick saying it aloud.

“Fuck,” Brian swore, more to himself. “Shit, Rog. I’m sorry you had to carry all this alone. I wish you had opened up to me about it.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. Can… c-can we do anything about him?”

Brian looked at his friend with sad eyes. “I don’t know. I’m afraid it’s just going to backfire. Maybe… we should talk to Freddie about that, ask him? For now, you don’t go anywhere alone. If she’s still stalking you, then… it’s not safe.”

“What about classes?” Roger asked pitifully.

“Either Freddie or John will go with you. I think that would work best for us.”

The drummer nodded. He loved all the men who he considered brothers but he still felt safer with Brian. He had height on his side. It was a difficult situation though when he knew the other man also had classes.  
  
“Come out to the living room when you’re done, yeah? We can talk it over with them.”

Roger stopped scrubbing and swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Brian stood up and walked out of the bathroom before closing the door again, leaving his friend alone again. Roger knew there were brush burn marks on his face from the brick building; he could feel the soreness from them but he felt like he deserved them.

He had fucked around with Jess, played with fire, gotten John hooked on drugs, and almost gotten himself raped twice. Maybe he deserved to feel a little pain.

He got out of the bathtub and pulled the plug before he dried himself off and looked down to see the flannel black pajama bottoms Brian had left him. He changed quickly and made for the living room where the guys looked to be finishing picking up Roger’s mess from his temper tantrum earlier.

He felt guilt ball up inside of him before he walked over to help pick up glass off the floor. Freddie gently grabbed his arm and gently guided him over to the couch.

“Don’t worry about the mess, darling. They’ve got it. I need to get you cleaned up before those scratches get infected.”

Roger watched as John and Brian worked as a team to get it quickly picked up, the coffee table back on its legs again. “I could’ve cleaned myself up, Freddie.”

The singer smirked. “Yes, you could have but you didn’t. Why is that?”

The drummer shrugged. “I just didn’t want to.”

“That’s not a good excuse to get an infection and have to go to hospital. Now then, you don’t have to tell me anything you and Brian talked about in there, Rog, but I would still like to know how you are.”

“Better,” Roger admitted. “I-I’m… sorry about making such a mess,” he pointed with his hand to the table. “I was just so angry.”

“Perfectly understandable, dear,” Freddie cooed as he applied some rubbing alcohol to a cotton ball and dabbed at Roger’s cuts on his face with it, causing the man to wince slightly. “I do apologize. I should have warned you this might burn a little.”

“Freddie,” Brian walked over and sat down on the couch on the opposite of them, followed by John. “Can we… press charges against the guy who attacked Roger _twice_ now? Can we do anything to him short of murdering the prick?”

The singer started to apply antiseptic to the cuts slowly, trying to be gentle. “You could try to press charges but I doubt very much the police will be on Roger’s side. They don’t look too fondly on… my kind.”

“I’m not… I’m not _gay_ though,” Roger protested. “They’ll listen to me!”

Freddie seemed to wince a little and instantly the drummer regretted his words. He looked down in shame but the singer pulled his face up again to finish applying the antiseptic.

“I understand your frustration but they won’t see it like that. Because you were a target at all, they’ll assume you are gay and they won’t help you. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past them to be on your attacker’s side in this whole mess,” Freddie sighed.

“It wouldn’t be like this if it was a female victim and a male attacker,” John pointed out.

“Indeed, darling. Maybe one day homosexuality will be accepted but that day isn’t this decade. You’re all done now, Roger dear.” Freddie gathered the first aid supplies up and went to go put them away.

Roger crossed his arms in front of his chest, his jaw clenched. “It’s bullshit.”

“Not going to argue with you on that,” Brian replied as he looked away, feeling just as frustrated, if not more. “We can’t even do anything to Jess then?”

“Like what? We can’t prove she had anything to even do with my attack,” Roger argued. “We can’t prove she did anything.”

“She sold narcotics to John!”

“Yeah, that’s brilliant, Bri. Let’s just drag John down with us while we’re at it. It’s not worth it. It’s bullshit and injustice that happened and we have to move on now. I’m going to bed,” Roger stood up too quickly, nearly losing his balance when he remembered his sore foot, and his back.

Brian quickly held his arms out to steady the drummer before he, too stood up. “Yeah, it’s getting late. I think I’m going to go too.”

John was biting his lip, watching Roger with concern on his face, glancing up at Brian unsurely. “Night, guys.”

“Goodnight, Deaky.”

Roger and Brian headed to their room and the two guys were quiet for a while, Brian taking out his book to study a bit before bed.

“I’m sorry, Roger. I wish we could do more.”

The drummer lay down on his stomach slowly but turned to look at his friend, his eyes soft. “I’m tired of everyone feeling sorry for me, Brian. I don’t ask for this shit to happen but I can deal with it on my own. I don’t need the band trying to fight for me.”

Brian thought for a beat before speaking. “I know you don’t want that, but… we’re family, Rog. We’re always going to fight each other’s battles, even when we’re fighting each other. It’s just how it is. Accept it. We’re always going to be here for you.”

Roger smirked weakly and rolled his eyes. “What do we do if we see them again…?”

“Well, since calling the cops doesn’t seem to be a good idea right now, I guess… try to avoid them. Don’t let any one of us be alone. If they keep harassing you, then I’ll set them straight. It’s fucking disgusting that the police won’t be on our side in this, if what Freddie says is true.”

“It is, but… I never thought that things are like that for… him, you know? I never thought that he had it worse than any of us.”

Brian looked at him. “Don’t worry about that tonight. Just try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Wait,” Roger put his head up. “Did we get paid for the show?”

Brian chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, we got paid. Now go to sleep, mate. I need to study some.”

The drummer also chuckled now and closed his eyes, putting his head back down on his pillow. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep, tonight’s events running through his head, but he must have been exhausted enough because he drifted off to sleep.


	10. introductions

**.    .    .**

 

Roger didn’t get much sleep during the night. He tossed and turned, groaning to himself quietly when he felt the scratches touch the sheets and felt it graze. He sighed to himself and eventually gave up on sleeping completely, getting out of bed and walking towards the kitchen to put the coffee on.

It was only 5 in the morning but he knew that everyone would be up soon. He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the counter.

He was so lucky to have John, Freddie and Brian in his life; he didn’t know what he’d do without them during this time. Roger knew he would feel so lost, probably homeless, living in the student union in the university. He didn’t let his thoughts linger too long on that, though.

When the coffee was done, he grabbed a cup and walked to the front door and opened it, seeing the paper on the step. He took it inside and quietly crept into the living room before he sat down and opened it, reading the pages for the gig review last night.

Just then, he heard footsteps walk on the floorboards, making them creak as they got closer to him. He glanced over and saw Brian’s curly mope of hair.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just… couldn’t sleep anymore.”

The guitarist shook his head. “No, no you’re fine.  I was just worried about you. Scratches bothering you?” He went into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee before walking back into the living room and sat down on the couch beside his friend.

“You know me too well, Bri,” Roger sighed. “They kept rubbing against the sheets. The only way I can sleep is on my stomach but I toss and turn all night. All I could think of all night was _his_ hands on me. I just –" he stopped himself and shook his head, not wanting to talk about that.

“You just what…?” Brian inquired, looking over at him with soft eyes. “You know, it’s okay if you want to talk about it. No one here is going to judge you for it.”

“Nothing happened,” Roger nearly whispered, an edge to his tone.

“Regardless. My offer still stands,” he took a sip of his coffee and peered over Roger’s shoulder. “What do you got there?”

The drummer was thankful for a change of subject and pushed the page towards him. “It’s a review of our gig last night,” he smirked. “Why don’t you read it?”

Brian nodded and started to read it aloud. “‘ _The Sweeney tavern is known for their many different music shows, but the most unique had to be last night’s gig with Smile. As soon as the band went on, it was instantaneous that they had energy. The band’s frontman, Freddie Mercury, dresses like he just came out of a storybook in a different land, but he brings the energy as well. This band shows without a doubt that appearances can be deceiving. It is clear from the audience’s enthusiasm and the thunderous beats, along with their catchy rhythm that this band will be going places.’_ Well that’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s probably the best review of a gig we’ve ever gotten,” Roger agreed, drinking his coffee, smiling.

Brian smiled as well, chuckling in delight. He read it over again silently just as Freddie walked out to the living room.

“What’s this, then? You two are having a party out here and didn’t bother to invite me? How terribly boring of you both.”

Brian brought the page over to Freddie. “Read this, Fred. It’s a review of last night.”

Freddie took the page but didn’t look at it until he had gotten his own coffee and took it to the table before he sat down. “It’s too early in the morning to read anything, darling. Let me have my coffee first.”

Brian rolled his eyes and walked back over to Roger. “Come on, Freddie. Read it! It’s good!”

“Oh, if you insist,” Freddie gave in, taking a long drink. “Now let’s see here…” he scanned the review with his eyes before raising his eyebrows. “Wow… this is simply wonderful! I believe a change of name is in order though, no offense, Rog.”

“So we’ll officially be Queen now?” Roger asked, looking between both men. “Smile is dead?”

“Are you upset, Roger?”

The drummer looked down before he shook his head, forcing himself to look back up at them. “No, of course not. A change of name is good for us. We _should_ change it.” And he really did mean it.

Smile was always going to be a temporary name until they hit it big. Queen seemed smoother anyway.

“Excellent, then. Good. We’re goddamn Queen.”

“We goddamn are,” Brian agreed, chuckling.

Once John was up and caffeinated, they all decided to practice for several hours, taking small breaks for stretching, smoking, and just general chatting.

“So where’s our next gig then?”

“Albert Hall, remember, darling?” Freddie looked back at Roger after wiping the sweat off his face.

Brian gave Roger a warning look. The drummer lit a cigarette and leaned back before he sighed reluctantly, nodding. “Right. Albert Hall. How much money do we have after the rent is paid?”

“What’s your real question you want to ask, Rog?” Brian searched his face, looking a bit impatient.

Roger stiffened. “Fine, how long until we have enough money where we can play wherever we want with decent paying gigs? I’m sick of drumming my ass off for shit pay.”

“If you’re sick of drumming, then go find somewhere else that’ll let you play the fucking triangle, then, darling,” Freddie set his jaw. “Drumming is what you do best and until we can find someone to manage us, then I’m afraid you’re stuck doing shit places for shit pay, aren’t you?”

“Guys, come on,” Brian sighed, trying to diffuse the two of them. “Let’s just keep practicing.”

“No,” Roger said, setting his sticks down on his drum kit before taking another drag. “I’m done for today. Book us Albert Hall, we’ll play there, and then maybe we can actually get paid more than breadcrumbs for once.”

“Where are you going, Rog?”

“Out, for a drink or ten. I’m tired of playing. My arms are fucking killing me.” He grabbed his coat and walked outside, not surprised when Brian and John both walked out with him.

“Remember what we talked about last night?” Roger asked quietly. “You’re not going anywhere alone.”

The drummer shrugged. “Fine. Are we waiting for Freddie too or does he need his usual five hours to get ready to go to a pub?”

John gave a look of disapproval at Roger’s comment before he shook his head. “He’s not coming. It’s just the three of us unless you want to waste more time being an arsehole.”

Roger hailed a cab and climbed inside with the two men. They rode in silence as it started to rain, the droplets hitting the window of the cab. He knew he was being an arsehole; it was true, but he was tired of practicing for hours, tired of playing in the same places that put him danger, tired of getting attacked. He was just so tired.

When they arrived at The Sweeney, Brian sighed heavily and looked over at his friend. “Why are we here again, Rog? You despise this place. If I didn’t know you, I’d say that you were here to get revenge.”

Roger looked at him. “Well good thing you know me then, isn’t it?” He walked inside and ordered three pints for all of them. As soon as he paid, he started downing his quickly, eager to feel numb again.

Brian and John both started nursing theirs, taking slow sips over time as they found a table and all sat together. Roger was already on his second one when John looked over at him with careful eyes.

“Why _are_ we here, Roger? Seriously.”

Roger shrugged, truly not knowing anymore. They could have gone anywhere else but there, but the drummer had instructed the cabbie to take them to this shithole. What did he expect to happen? That both the Man and Jess would show up and then he’d hurt them, or that he’d just chew out Jess for what she did? What was going to happen?

He felt ridiculous being here now, but now that he was here, he was going to drink until he didn’t feel anything. Eventually he wouldn’t feel the searing pain of the scratches or the feel of the Man’s hands on his skin anymore.

“Rog?” John persisted. “Why are we here?”

“I don’t know! All right, John? Just… drink. Be merry! We’re here and we’re not leaving so just… relax.”

Brian gently hit Roger’s shoulder with the back of his hand in a tap-like fashion. “Oy, leave Deaky alone. I think it’s _you_ who needs to relax right now. If you want to get pissed, that’s your business but you don’t get to be a shithead because you don’t want to talk about what’s actually bothering you.”

“This isn’t about me!”

Brian snorted, taking a drink of his pint. “Yeah, sure. It’s not about you at all. Bullshit, Rog. This whole trip is about you. You don’t take impromptu trips to this particular place on your own volition unless you’re forced to!”

Roger just finished his second pint and he could feel the alcohol start to warm his body.

“Wanna slow down a bit maybe, Rog?” John asked, still sipping his first one. “We have the whole night, mate. Take it easy, yeah?”

Roger chuckled now. “Take it easy… wow, John, that’s just rich coming from you. I’m betting you took it easy snorting all that shit up your nose, didn’t you?”

“Rog!”

John stood up now. “All right. I’m done. You two have fun getting shitfaced. I’m heading back home.”

“No,” Brian almost pleaded, gently grabbing his arm. “Sit back down, please. Let’s just all take a breath here. Roger won’t say any more arsehole things, will _you_?” He looked over at the drummer pointedly.

“Who knows? It’s still early.”

“Fucking hell,” John sighed, forcing himself to sit back down. Roger suspected he only did it for Brian’s benefit though.

Roger bought another drink with their leftover money and drank it, starting to finally feel numb. He took out a cigarette and lit it before taking a long drag from it. He exhaled the smoke and started scanning the floor at the people.

They took turns throughout the night nonchalantly accompanying Roger to the loo when it required, and neither Brian nor Roger let John out of their sights. It felt good to not have to feel anything right now, though, emotions and feelings be damned.

Brian continued casting him looks, silent ones that asked if he was okay, if he wanted to leave, or what he was planning to do. The drummer didn’t give himself away, alternating between cigarettes and alcohol.

“It’s nearly one in the morning, Rog. Are you quite done chainsmoking yet? Can we go home now?” John asked, only finishing his second pint now.

Roger rubbed his eyes tiredly, the excess of beer making him sleepy. He glanced over at Brian who seemed to be hoping the answer would be yes. The drummer shrugged. “Leave if you want, Deaky. I’m not ready to head home yet.”

John gave an exhaustive look towards Brian who shook his head. The guitarist gently herded Roger out of the booth. “No, that’s it. We’re all going now. Come on, mate.”

“Oy!” Roger quickly reached out and grabbed his lighter before he body left he booth seat and stood up, staggering a little bit but was quickly steadied again by Brian’s hand.

John looked relieved and the three of them were nearly by the bar when Roger happened to glance back and spotted _her._

It was Jess, somehow still looking beautiful, albeit a bit too thin. He swallowed hard and turned around quickly before he walked towards her. Apparently John and Brian hadn’t noticed he had done so because neither had reached out to grab him.

“Jess?” He walked over to her, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as his drunken state made him have more feelings than he wanted at the moment.

She looked startled when she saw him, looking up at him. “E-Err… Roger… what are you doing?”

It was lucky she was alone because he was not censoring himself for anything right now. “I-I’m talking to you. You fucked me over, you know that?”

“Roger, I’m… so sorry…”

“Bullshit! Y-you’re a liar. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that you were fucking working with that scumbag!” He felt tears creep into his eyes and fucking hated himself for it. He took a step back.

“I don’t know what to say, Roger. I’m sorry I hurt you.” She didn’t sound sorry at all.

The drummer felt hands on him now and he saw Brian.

“Come on, Rog. Let’s go…”

Roger took one last look at Jess, feeling his heart breaking all over again. “Fuck you, Jess. Fuck you for being a piece of shit!”

“Come on!” John tugged at Roger and finally got him moving again.

Roger let them pull him out of the venue, warm tears escaping his eyes as a sob got caught in his throat. He didn’t let it escape and coughed to cover up the fact he was crying again. He put out his cigarette as he got outside, forgetting he had it between his fingers.

Brian hailed a cab and got the two of them inside before he turned to Roger who looked to be nothing short of a hot mess. He chewed on his bottom lip for a minute before he spoke. “Rog, do you want to talk about it?”

The drummer put up a hand and waved it before he shook his head no, not feeling in a talkative mood anymore, afraid he was going to start sobbing all over again like an oversensitive asshole.

It was a quiet ride back home and Freddie was still awake, standing up when he saw the three men enter the flat. He looked between them worriedly and saw Roger’s state.

“Is everything all right, darlings?”

John chuckled and shook his head as he made a beeline for his room. Brian shrugged.

“Oh, well that certainly answers the question. Thank you very much,” Freddie replied sarcastically. “Roger? What happened, dear?”

Brian decided to give the two of them a moment and Roger found himself alone with the singer. His head was still spinning, his fingers feeling numb from too much alcohol and too many feelings. Roger walked over to him.

“I saw Jess there tonight,” he said quietly.

Freddie rose his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh. So… how did that go, then?”

“Not good. Told her off,” Roger explained. “Still feel like shit. Can I go to my room now, Fred?”

The singer looked concerned but he gave him a small smile and nodded. “Of course you can, darling. Goodnight, Roger.”

“Night, Freddie.” He hauled his extra heavy limbs into the bedroom and saw Brian surrounded by his usual amount of books on the bed. He took off his clothes to change into sweatpants. “It’s ironic you study so much. You aren’t even going to classes anymore.”

“You were a real class act tonight, Roger,” Brian changed the subject suddenly, as if he had been holding this in all night. “Saying that shit to John before, and then getting into it with that bitch? What are you thinking? Why? Why all the theatrics tonight? Are you trying to alienate yourself from us now?”

Roger stood at the edge of the bed, gripping the frame tightly.

“Answer me, Rog! What the hell is with you?”

Suddenly, he felt like a grenade had gone off inside him. “B-Because I’m scared, all right?! Is that what you want to hear? I’m fucking angry that she betrayed me like that! I was falling in love with her and she just… broke my heart, Bri! I don’t know what else to tell you!”

The guitarist closed his book now and looked at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m not going to pretend to act like I know what you’re going through, but I understand betrayal. It sucks. I know it does, but you need to forget her, forget him, and move on with your life, or else you’re just going to be stuck in the past. This isn’t good for you, Roger. Drinking doesn’t help anything. We just need to keep you distracted, yeah? We’ll do that, and we’ll all look forward to the future together, but you need to meet us halfway.”

Roger thought for a long time before he nodded, well aware how much sense his friend was making. He was always going to be stuck in a loop in time. He needed new things to happen. He needed to see progress.

“Y-Yeah, I know, Brian,” he said softly, taking a shaky breath. “I’m… sorry for tonight. Something just snapped inside me seeing her. You’re… you’re right, though.”

Brian searched his face. “Yeah, I am,” when he saw Roger chuckle, he also joined in. “Come on, you whackadoo. It’s time for bed.”

Roger crawled under the sheets onto his stomach.

“No one put the antiseptic on your scratches today. We should probably do that now. Hang on,” Roger felt a shift in the bed and then saw Brian come back a few minutes later with the antiseptic cream in his hand.

He flinched at the coldness of it before he felt it be applied slowly to his back. “How are they looking?”

“A bit red still. As far as I know, though, they don’t look infected,” Brian answered. “Okay, the ones on your back are done. Look at me?”

When Roger turned to look at his bandmate, he saw him apply the cream to his brush burns from the brick on his face. He winced and then relaxed when the other man was done and relaxed again on his stomach, his face looking away from the guitarist so he wouldn’t mess up the ointment.

He heard the sound of papers rustling and knew that Brian had gone back to his studies.

“I plan on going to class tomorrow. Are you going?”

Roger closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll go too.”

“Good.”

 

**……  … …… … ….. … …… …. ……. …**

Roger felt like he had been hit by a train. He had only had four beers total, but his body was fighting a war against him as he showered and got dressed before heading to class. Brian had kept to his word, also having agreed to go to class.

If he hadn’t gone, he really didn’t believe that he would have gone himself.

Against all odds, he made it through his day and decided to pop over to Brian’s university to see him. He forgot how nice it felt to have a healthy routine he could depend on. He had his aviator sunglasses on to protect himself from the lights that seemed to exacerbate his headache.

He strolled into the library and it took him longer than usual to find Brian since he wasn’t in the spot he normally was. When he found the other man, he appeared to be talking to a woman.

He stopped a few feet, second guessing if he should interrupt them, but then Brian saw him and waved him over.

Roger couldn’t help but smile when he saw her; she had long dark hair and warm eyes. “Who’s your friend, then, Bri?”

The guitarist smirked mischievously. “Roger, meet Dominique.”

He put his hand out and shook hers gently when she did the same. “Nice to meet you, Dominique. I wish you could’ve seen me before I died.”

She laughed softly. “Rough night?”

“Yeah, it was, but… seeing you just made my whole day so it makes up for it.” Roger put his sunglasses on the top of his head to get a better look at her, his stomach doing flips.

Brian smiled, looking between the two of them. “I’m sorry to break this up but I’m afraid Roger and I have to head out now.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Dominque said sincerely before looking at Roger. “Would you care to go for a drink sometime?”

“That’s my line,” he chuckled. “Sure, I’d love to. How about tonight?”

Brian was smiling as he shook his head. “Sorry, you’re barred from the bar tonight. Your liver needs a rest, mate. He looked over at her. Tomorrow, at the Speakeasy,” he promised.

“Tomorrow,” Dominque agreed, smiling. “See you both then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Roger felt Brian tug him away from her before he looked over at him. “How long were you planning on keeping _that_ a secret from me, then?”

They exited the building and grabbed a cab to head back home.

“I figured I’d pull out the big guns when the time was right. You need someone to keep your mind off of… the other one.”

“Jess. Just say her bloody name.”

“Fine, Jess. You need a distraction from her. She’s smart, funny, brilliant… I think she’s a great catch for you, mate,” Brian admitted, shrugging. “If you don’t like her, though…” he trailed off.

Roger chuckled and gently smacked the guitarist’s arm. “Shut up, I love her,” he chuckled. “She’s amazing.”

“Thought you’d like her. She’s everything you’re not,” Brian teased jokingly.

Roger laughed and playfully shoved his companion, glad to have met this new woman. He knew it felt a bit soon since Jess, but even if this woman was his rebound, then at least he could say he tried instead of rolling over and playing dead.

At least he could act like he was moving on with his life, deciding it was time for him to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you guys are still liking and reading! And as you can see, I finally put a tentative ending chapter up, which could change.


	11. apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: there is a panic attack that occurs in this chapter so read at your own risk.

**.     .     .**

For Roger, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. He had gone home with Brian that evening and practiced until they were all exhausted and sick of their own music, and then went to bed with thoughts of Dominique in his head.

It was the next morning when he and John were both alone in the kitchen making their coffee when he realized something was different between them. The bassist seemed standoffish, cold towards him. Roger made sure that Brian wasn’t about to intrude on them before he finally turned to John, annoyed that the man was acting this way.

“What’d I do to you now?” Roger asked, slightly frustrated.

John looked at him in disbelief. “You’re serious? Do you not remember the other night at the tavern, when you said those unbelievably shitty things to me about the drugs?”

_Of course. Fuck._

He had been so wrapped up in the new woman he had met, he completely forgot about that night. Roger felt like a fucking tosser now that John had refreshed his memory. The drummer sighed in defeat, knowing full well he was in the wrong.

“Shit, John. I’m sorry about that night. I was drunk. I didn’t mean any of it,” Roger apologized, searching his face. “I really am sorry about that.”

“ _Are_ you, though, Rog? You apologize a lot but I don’t know if you even mean it ever.” John took a sip of his coffee before he walked into the living room and sat down.

Roger knew he deserved that. He ran a hand through his hair before following him in there and sat down on the couch next to him.

“Of course I mean it, John. I know that things have been… difficult… with the two of us lately, and I know it’s my fault that you got hooked in the first place, but –"

“Your fault?” John glanced over at him in surprise. “Hold on now, how is my addiction _your_ fault? Last time I checked, I’m the one who bought the drugs.”

Roger sighed, afraid to say the words aloud. “J-Jess… she sold it to you and… I hooked up with her. Maybe she wouldn’t have targeted you to sell to if she hadn’t seen me…?” He knew he wasn’t making a lot of sense right now but his brain was trying to figure out a way to make this his fault because he felt like it had to be.

John looked just as confused as Roger felt. He took another sip of coffee before he set it down on the table and turned to face his friend.

“What are you on about, Rog? Jess is the only common denominator between us, but… she was there because of your attacker, the guy in the loo, yeah? You told us they were working together.”

Roger nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they were.”

John chewed on his lip in thought, perhaps trying to find the best way to explain this. “Roger, let me ask you a question. Did you introduce me to Jess the night I bought the drugs from her?”

The drummer looked confused again, shaking his head. “No? I mean, we weren’t around when you first bought from her. I wasn’t there. I met her when I was with Brian…”

“Exactly,” John agreed.  “You weren’t there. I was. She introduced herself to me the night a few months back when I bought from her. You just happened to meet her for the first time that night with Brian last week,”

Roger’s brows came together in realization but John continued.

“It’s not your fault, mate. You didn’t introduce me to someone who I’d be buying coke from for the last few months. It’s not your fault I was the way I was. The only people responsible for making me a junkie are myself and her. No one else, do you understand?” John’s voice was gentle, calm.

He couldn’t believe it. He had felt responsible for what had happened to his best friend for months, seeing him wasting away, the color leaving his body slowly, the agitation. Roger had always chalked it up to it being his own fault, especially after Jess had confessed about selling to him after the gig.

_But it had never been his fault._

He swallowed hard, as if he was attempting to swallow this hard truth. He wasn’t sure what to say, feeling lost for words for once. He looked down at his cup. “Well, I’m still sorry for what I said to you the other night. It was out of line and you didn’t deserve it.”

John looked satisfied now, a small smile curving out the sides of his face. He gently patted Roger’s shoulder. “No worries. Consider us all right. Thanks for apologizing, though.”

Roger nodded and gave a weak smile. “Can I tell you about something?”

John nodded eagerly, taking his coffee cup back again. “Yeah, please. Tell me anything else right now. Is it good news? We could use a little more of that right now.”

The drummer chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, umm… Brian introduced me to a friend of his. Her name’s Dominique, she’s absolutely gorgeous, funny, and she’s going to be at The Speakeasy tonight. Brian and I were going to go. Did you want to come out with us?”

John scoffed, grinning now. “I was honestly going to join you, invitation or not. You can’t be left alone for two minutes without causing trouble,” he teased lightly. “That’s great, Rog. I’m glad you found someone new. I hope she treats you better than Jess.”

Roger felt touched at his friend’s kind words. “Thanks, mate. I hope so too.”

Just then, Freddie came out in a bright red bathrobe. “I hope you two are playing nice or else I’m afraid I’m going to have to separate both of you.”

“Fred, want to join us at The Speakeasy from drinks tonight?” John offered.

The singer looked intrigued. “It’s a bit early to be thinking about drinks but… yes, I’d love to join you, darlings. Is Brian coming too?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, I think we should check out this place, see if we can book a gig there.”

“Yes, I _do_ believe that’s a wonderful idea, and also very good for you too, Rog. We’ll finally be out of that dreadful music club down the road.”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Roger agreed.

Freddie filled a cup of coffee as Brian walked in with his backpack, setting it down on the floor as he also poured himself coffee before joining the others.

“Looks like everyone’s having a good time except me. What’d I miss?”

“We were just talking about tonight,” Roger explained.

Brian’s eyes brightened and he grinned. “Ohhh, with Dominque?”

“ _Another_ woman?” Freddie teased. “Oh, you dog! You simply must tell us about her! What is she like?”

Roger pursed his lips, conveniently leaving out that part for this exact reason. He shot a pretend glare in the guitarist’s direction. “Thanks, Bri. I was trying to keep that part a secret.”

He wasn’t about to tell him that he had already told Deaky.

“Oh, no problem. Thought you’d want to tell the rest of them all about her, though.”

“Yes, darling! Don’t skip out on any of the details!” Freddie encouraged him, excited now as he sat sideways in an armchair, looking at the rest of them.

Roger shrugged. “There isn’t too much to tell. She’s beautiful, smart, has a good sense of humor. Very funny. I think I’ve met my match, truth be told.”

“That’s fabulous, Rog. Where ever did you meet her?”

“Brian introduced us yesterday,” Roger explained, finishing his coffee. “She goes to his university.”

Freddie took a sip before he smiled. “I’m so happy for you, dear. Truly. It’s about time something went your way.”

Roger nodded in agreement. “Thanks, Freddie.”

Freddie saluted him and smiled before he threw his arms in the air enthusiastically. “I shall be your musical prostitute, darling. You can count on me.”

“I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I don’t care anymore about the pay. As long as we can play at The Speakeasy, then we can get paid in peanuts for all I care! I just want to play somewhere else,” Roger admitted.

All the guys exchanged surprised and amused looks with each other.

Brian laughed. “Oh my, this _is_ a surprise coming from you, Roger. You’ve done nothing but complain about how much we’ve been getting paid to play!”

“I know, I know,” Roger rolled his eyes. “I just want out of that shithole place.”

Freddie smirked. “Well, your wish is my command, darling. I will do my best.” He finished his coffee and then headed down the hall to go shower.

“Remember when it was just the two of us when we found Freddie?” Brian looked over at Roger with a look of nostalgia. “From the very first time we saw him, I knew he’d be trouble. He’s very in command, take charge.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing, Bri,” he shrugged. “I’m glad for it. I don’t want to be the one to handle it all, and he’s so bloody confident about himself and everything else that the people he talks to will probably say yes to anything he says.”

John and Brian both snickered to themselves, knowing that it was true.

“I agree; it’s definitely not a bad thing. He’s a good person to have around.”

 

**…. …. … …. … … …… …**

Roger reluctantly went to classes but he was counting down the seconds until he’d be done. He was eager to see Dominque again, eager to feel that flutter in his stomach once again.

He grabbed his things and headed to Brian’s college to find him (and hopefully her). When he found the guitarist, he was sans Dominque. Roger swallowed back the disappointment he felt and instead, gentle kicked the other man awake as he slept against the wall, a book opened to the chapter _Singularities and Black Holes in the Cosmos._

Brian startled awake, looking around before his eyes looked up to see Roger. He stretched and groaned quietly. “Sorry… I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

Roger chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re studying too hard, mate. Hey, where is she?”

“Who?” Brian looked confused.

“Dominique! Is she around? I was hoping if I got here quickly, I could catch her before seeing her later.”

The guitarist blinked, obviously not awake yet from his nap, and rubbed his eyes with his palms before gathering his books and shoving them back into his bag. “Oh, I’m sorry, Rog, but I’m not her keeper, am I? She’s a free woman who can go where she wants, when she wants. Anyway, seeing her yesterday in here was a rare sight; she’s not usually so studious.”

“Fantastic, she’s a lot like me, then,” Roger smirked. “At least we have that in common. You ready?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, did you want to go home, collect the other two, and then head over there or what did you want to do?”

“That sounds good. There’s no real rush anyway. It’s only…” Roger looked at his watch. “Half 6. I need time to shower and shave, and then we can head over.”

Brian nodded and tiredly led them out of the college before grabbing a cab for home. Both men set their packs down on the floor before Roger made a beeline for the bathroom, but saw the door was closed. He tried the knob, but to no avail.

He knocked on it as a last resort. “I need to shower and get ready!”

“Just a minute!” _John._ The door opened up and Roger saw him looking at him alertly. He searched the man’s eyes cautiously before whispering, “All right, Deaky?”

His pupils didn’t look dilated.

He nodded. “Yeah, great. It’s all yours, mate…”

Roger bit his lip and gently grabbed his arm as the bassist went to walk around him. “You sure everything’s all right? We don’t usually lock doors, you know?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, Rog. I just wanted to shower first without Freddie barging in on me,” he chuckled.

That was something that Roger could relate to, and by John’s calm demeanor, he obviously wasn’t high right now. Better safe than sorry, though.

“Right, well, I can understand that.” He chuckled as well and gently patted his friend’s back before he went inside and closed the door, but decided not to lock it. He didn’t want to face Brian’s wrath if he had to pee but couldn’t because it was locked.

Roger got undressed and hopped in the shower. Not five minutes later, he heard the door open freely without a warning knock.

“Oh, please, _do_ come in!” he replied sardonically as he rinsed his hair.

“I do believe I will,” Brian’s cool voice came, the sound of the toilet seat lifting up as the other man starting to go. “Don’t be a dick to her, okay?”

The abrupt change of subject threw Roger off momentarily. “Sorry?”

“Dominque,” Brian clarified. “Don’t be a dickhead to her. She’s a nice woman, and also a good friend.”

Roger sighed. “I’m not going to be a dickhead to her. Don’t worry, I like her.” He started scrubbing his body clean, being careful once he got to his back.

“Good. Incoming!” The sound of the toilet flush.

Roger screeched as burning hot water scalded him. Luckily he was quick enough to avoid it hitting his back but it got his leg. “OWW! Fucking hell! You son of a bitch, Brian!”

He chuckled as he left the bathroom.  Next time, Roger decided he would lock the door after all.

Once he got out and dried himself, he shaved and got changed before he finally left the bathroom. He walked into the bedroom and heard the soothing guitar riffs of Zeppelin’s _“_ Tea for One” playing throughout the room, and Brian also getting ready.

Roger had quickly forgiven Brian’s flushing as he handed him the tube of antiseptic before he half took off his button down shirt and lifted up his tank top to reveal the scratches. “Would you?”

“Of course, mate,” the guitarist took the tube and gently applied the cream to his friend’s back before helping him redress again. “All set.”

“Cheers.”

“Are we ready, darlings?” Freddie’s voice rang out through the house. “Let’s go!”

Brian fixed his shirt before he led Roger out of the room and towards the front door where John was already waiting patiently by Freddie.

“You all look absolutely stunning!”

“You look good too, Fred,” Roger smirked. “How many animals had to die for that coat?”

Freddie rolled his eyes, smirking. “It’s faux fur, dear, and I know I look stunning as well! Are we ready now? I swear you all take longer to get ready than me!”

“Yes, let’s be on our way now!” Brian gently pushed all them out towards the road.

The men hailed a cab and headed to The Speakeasy, an almost half hour ride from their flat. The bandmates didn’t mind too much though. It gave them time to talk and joke around together before they semi-split up inside.

“So your semester’s almost over now, isn’t it, Rog?” Freddie asked, glancing over at him.

Roger nodded, scratching his temple. “Yeah, yeah it is. I just have a couple more exams left and… and I can be a dental assistant,” he replied with no excitement in his voice, but a slight knowing smirk in Brian’s direction.

The guitarist smirked back but it was John who spoke next. “Oh, so when do you get to actually be a dentist, then? How much more schooling do you need for that?”

Roger shrugged. “I guess a few more years. I don’t plan to do that though. I’m getting my degree this semester and then dropping out. I’ve already discussed this with Bri.”

Freddie looked crestfallen. “Oh, you mustn’t drop out, though, Rog! You need to continue!”

“Don’t worry, Fred. I’m going somewhere else near Brian’s college to major in something I actually want to do.”

John smirked. “Oh, you don’t want to look into peoples’ mouths and perform dental work, up close and personal?”

Roger gave an exhaustive look at his friend, who chuckled. “No, Deaky, I don’t want to do that. It’s a waste of my time. I’d like to major in drawing instead.”

“Art! I simply love it, Rog,” Freddie replied approvingly, grinning.

The cab stopped at the music venue and the men got out after paying the fare before going inside. Like the other places they’ve played, it was smoky but more spacious than The Sweeney and felt like a breath of fresh air for Roger.

He glanced around, paranoid that the Man and Jess had followed them there, but didn’t see either. Rock music blasted throughout the building.

“Brian, find us a booth. What would all like to drink?” The singer asked them.

Roger looked between the three of them in a quiet count and then looked at Freddie. “Three pints sound good, I think. Come on, let’s go find a spot to sit down.”

Freddie walked over to the bar and Brian and the others moved through the sea of people. Unlike the other venue, there were a lot more booths and tables for people to sit if they chose and the band members quickly found a booth to sit in with a clear view of the bar where Freddie was.

“Look at him, he’s chatting him up,” Roger observed.

“He’s probably just giving him our order,” John attempted to reason.

“Nope, he’s definitely flirting,” Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “Why is he luckier with love than I am? He’s a machine.” There was definitely an impressive tone in his voice.

John looked at him a bit skeptically, half smirking. “I don’t believe it has anything to do with love, Bri.”

The men shared a good-hearted laugh with each other but they all had to admit they were genuinely impressed with Freddie’s skills at obtaining one-night stands. He had a charisma that the other men could only dream of. The singer was outlandish, cocky, and a sensitive soul, and they all admired him for these traits.

“Oh Christ,” Roger chuckled in disbelief. “He just leaned in, and only _now_ is he giving him our order. Lovely. He’s definitely going home with the bartender tonight.”

Brian was also laughing but gently smacked Roger’s arm. “Consider us lucky he’s even coming back over to give us the drinks in the first place. I wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot all about us and left with the bloke right now.”

“Don’t even say that,” John remarked. “I’m dying of thirst right now.”

“Here, here,” Roger agreed.

Roger kept his eyes out for the raven-haired woman that had stolen his heart but he didn’t see her yet. He looked at his watch.

7:30. It was still early.

The men were so in sync with each other that Brian and Roger both simultaneously took out a cigarette, put it between their lips and lit it just as Freddie walked over and set their drinks down in front of them.

“There you all are, darlings. I apologize for taking so long…”

“No worries,” John prompted. “We all could see how busy you were flirting with the bar man. What _ever_ did you two talk about for so long? We thought we were all going to die of thirst by the time you got back.”

Freddie smirked to himself. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business, Deaky, but I’ll just tell you all not to wait for me to go home. I’ve found a ride of my own tonight, darlings.”

Brian and Roger looked at each other, exchanging a knowing look, chuckling to themselves.

Then, the drummer heard a familiar voice.

“Roger? Brian? Hey! I’m finally here! Sorry I took so long. I had a late class tonight.”

Roger stood up so abruptly that beer spilled over the glasses and Brian and John were both scrambling to clean up the small mess, casting looks towards their friend.

“Err, no problem, Dominique,” Roger stammered, feeling nervous for the first time in his life in front of a woman. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Please, it’s been a long day,” she laughed, smiling before she motioned for him to lead them towards the bar.

He grabbed his own drink before he moved out of the booth.

He ordered her a mixed drink and paid as they talked for about an hour just about her. Roger felt more relaxed now that the attention wasn’t all on him anymore. He could listen her speak for hours. This woman was so memorizing.

Then, a slower Zeppelin song came on over the speakers. Roger recognized it instantly as “Tangerine.” He bit his lip, waiting for her reaction to see what she wanted to do.

Her eyes looked hopeful, but also a little nervous. “Dance?” She asked.

Roger swallowed hard, finishing his pint before he set it down on the bar counter and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Please.” He let her lead them towards the dance floor and rested his hands on her waist as she rested her arms on either side of his shoulders, starting to sway to the music.

When they turned so he was in sight of his friends at the booth, they all gave him a thumbs up with a grin. He rolled his eyes, smiling to himself before he looked at her, feeling like his heart was bursting with energy and love.

“Thank you, for this,” he spoke somewhat pathetically.

She cocked her head to the side in confusion and he felt her gently caressing the back of his neck softly. “For what, Roger Taylor?”

“For this. I mean… I haven’t just… enjoyed doing things like this with a woman for… awhile now. Usually I scare them off or… I’m a complete arsehole and say the wrong thing. I just… I don’t deserve this. Or… you –“

She stopped him, gently placing her fingers on his lips. “I mean this with kindness and sincerity. Please shut up now. I’m enjoying your company. You don’t seem like an arsehole, and I’d like to continue enjoying you. Just dance with me, Roger.”

He nodded and then felt her move closer to his body, wrapping her arms completely around his neck and he did the same with her own body. Roger felt her rest her head against his shoulder and he could smell her perfume: citrusy.

He took a deep breath and relaxed, still swaying slightly. This was the perfect moment he never wanted to forget, and he knew he wouldn’t.

She wasn’t Jess. She was better than Jess.

And he still didn’t deserve her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another one's gone, another one's gone, another one bites the dust....


	12. explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such fast updates! I'm dying of boredom over here and watching Bo Rap way too many times haha.

**.     .     .**

Brian had been nice enough to sleep on the couch last night so Roger had the bedroom to himself with Dominque.

During their time together, he felt something click as their bodies came together, feeling like love was flowing throughout his entire body as he held her, kissing her in every place he could see.

When they were relaxing together in the afterglow, his arm around her, Roger realized he had never felt more calm and at peace with someone than he was right now with her. He even had told her so because it was the truth. She had smiled but and rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him with blissful eyes.

“I’m sure you say that to all the women you sleep with…” she whispered skeptically.

Roger mentally cursed Brian in his head, positive that the guitarist had told her all about Roger’s one-night stands. “I guess my reputation precedes me. I mean it, though… really. I’ve never felt this way with anyone else. I’ve always felt angry but… you do something to me and I just feel… calm.”

She had smiled at that and kissed his lips before falling asleep in his arms. He held her close, afraid that he might lose her forever if he let go.

The two had stayed that way until this morning when he had woken up first, gently caressing her bare back with his fingertips lightly, tracing her spine. She looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to wake her up so he snuck out of the room, putting on a pair of jeans and an open shirt before walking out of his room and gently closed the door so any noise wouldn’t wake her.

He saw Brian was laying on the couch still but by his breathing pattern, he was awake. Roger walked into the kitchen to start the coffee and walked back to join the guitarist, opting to sit on the floor by the couch.

“How long have you been awake for?”

Brian looked to him, shrugging. “A half hour, maybe. Did you just get up now?”

“Yeah,” Roger whispered softly. “Sorry to have kicked you out of your own room. I could’ve just gone back to her place.”

Brian forced himself to sit up now and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind playing cupid. She still asleep?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Wow, you must really feel something special with her. Usually, you kick them out before they even have coffee,” Brian chuckled quietly. “You two looked like you had fun last night. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance like that with a woman.”

“Are you assuming I’ve danced like that with a man?”

Brian snickered again, shaking his head. “Yeah, once. With me, when we both were shitfaced forever ago.”

Roger grabbed a pillow and smacked the other man with it before he also laughed softly. The two sat together in a comfortable silence as John came out, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Coffee ready yet?”

Roger shushed him quickly. “Keep it down, will you? There’s a lady still sleeping.”

John smirked and nodded. “Oh, really? She’s still here? Wow, Rog. This has to be some kind of record for you,” he noted in a quieter tone as he walked into the kitchen and pulled three mugs out of the cupboard.

Roger rolled his eyes.  “Fred still sleeping?”

“Fred’s not home yet. He’s still at that bloke’s place,” John answered, walking into the living room to join the other two men. “Seems like he had fun too.”

“Obviously. Do you think he’s all right?” Roger asked, starting to get worried. This wasn’t the first time the singer had done this but usually he snuck back into the flat before the other men had woken up.

Brian stood up and walked into the kitchen, pouring coffee into all three mugs before getting a fourth mug out for Dominque whenever she woke up. “Don’t worry, Rog. I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s not back by noon, then we can start to worry.”

He brought the mugs of coffee over to his other band mates and handed it to them carefully.

“Cheers, Bri,” Roger thanked him, holding the cup between his hands to warm his cold skin. He chatted back and forth with them for about an hour before he heard the door to his room open.

Dominque was wearing just one of Roger’s longer button down shirts that covered her underwear underneath.

Brian glanced over at her and smiled warmly. “Morning, Dom. Help yourself to the coffee. It’s still fresh.”

“Cheers,” she thanked him, going into the kitchen and making herself her coffee. She then walked into the living room and joined them, being careful how she sat down in the armchair. “How did you all sleep?”

Roger gave her a warm smile as well and let his eyes linger over her long legs for a moment before looking back at his coffee.

“Good, thank you. And you?” John asked her.

She nodded and smiled. “Lovely. I’m sorry you had to sleep out here, Brian. If I had known how the arrangements were, I would’ve taken Roger over to my place.”

Brian chuckled now, hearing Roger’s words come out of her mouth. The two were more alike than they even knew.

“No worries, Dominque.  It’s perfectly fine. Roger did this to me all the time before. It’s a nice change to do it for someone who actually cares about him for once.”

Roger felt heat rise in his cheeks, almost feeling embarrassed now that he had slept with so many woman before who hadn’t cared about his mind, and only his body. True, sometimes it had been a two-way street in that way, but he was glad that was over now. He didn’t even want anyone else after him and Dominque had their night together.

She stood up and walked over towards Roger and sat down right beside him, having been hesitant to do so sooner. She leaned against him, still holding her cup of coffee.

Roger’s eyebrows came together now in realization and he suddenly felt the good feeling he had been feeling disappear. Negative thoughts suddenly popped up in his mind and he looked at her. “I don’t… deserve you,” he whispered almost inaudibly.

She looked at him. “What…?”

Brian and John both looked at the drummer now. “What did you say, Rog?”

Roger set his coffee down now and he stood up, looking down at Dominque, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. “I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me.”

Her loving eyes became filled with confusion and hurt. “Roger… don’t be silly. Sit back down with us.”

Roger swallowed hard and shook his head before he slipped on a pair of shoes and rushed out of the flat and started walking fast, his mind racing as angry tears filled up in his eyes. He could hear Dom’s voice somewhere but the wind caught it and it disappeared again.

What made him think he could ever deserve something so beautiful and amazing? He hadn’t done anything good in his life, going through girl after girl, looking to feel something other than his own self- hatred. Dominque was unlike any woman he had ever met before and made him feel everything at once.

He walked until it started to rain and he looked around, realizing how far he had actually gone. He had walked almost to The Sweeney already. He took a deep breath and entered the tavern. He ordered a straight whiskey and downed it quickly.

Fuck how early it was to drink. He was feeling too much again. His low self-esteem was coming back with a vengeance, and it wanted him to feel as inferior as he believed he was. He ordered another one before he quickly drank that one as well.

His head was starting to swim now and he didn’t feel real. Roger didn’t know what he wanted to feel. Maybe he didn’t want to feel at all; maybe he wanted to self-destruct instead, forcing himself to feel what he actually deserved to.

 _What was he actually doing here?_ Roger instantly knew the answer to that question.  _He was purposely putting himself in danger, hoping, praying that Man would come back and actually give him what he deserved._

He clenched his jaw, feeling fresh tears in his eyes now. He took a shaky breath before he started walking to the restroom. He was almost there when he felt an arm grab him and pull him away, and then he was met eye to eye with Brian.

“What the hell are you doing, mate? What the hell are you _thinking_ , Rog?” He demanded, searching the drummer’s face for answers Roger didn’t even have.

Roger ripped his arm out of Brian’s grip and turned on him, tears racing down his cheeks and giving himself away completely.

“I fucked up, Bri! All right?! I fucked up big time and I don’t deserve her! I was an idiot to think that I did!”

His words took Brian back and he swallowed hard. “What are on about, Rog? Of course you deserve her…”

“No, I don’t!” He insisted, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? Everything that happened to me with… that _motherfucker_ … and Jess! I deserve _that!_ That’s why it happened and it didn’t even happen once, but twice! That’s a fucking sign of what I truly deserve, Brian! I deserve to be hurt!”

He swallowed back a sob, running a hand through his hair in distress. The guitarist looked at him in shock, shaking his head worriedly.

_Maybe what Roger was having was a breakdown._

“Come on, Rog. We’re getting out of here now,” Brian started to gently push him towards the exit but Roger pushed back, circling him so he was always further away from the exit.

“Stop it! I need to be here!”

“No, Roger! You don’t!” Brian yelled back at him. “You need to be at home, with your family! You need to be with Dominque! She’s out of her head with worry about you, mate!”

The drummer looked away from his friend as a sob escaped his throat. “I-I can’t be with her, Brian… I c-can’t!”

Brian glanced around at the bartenders and the usuals who were looking at them suspiciously. He finally pulled Roger into the loo and closed the door before looking at him.

“Roger, listen to me. You didn’t deserve what that guy did to you, at all. All that shit with him happening twice, that wasn’t a bloody sign! That was Jess! That was her telling him where you were, and he targeted you like a fucking predator,” Brian placed his hands on Roger’s shoulders.

The drummer shook his head, refusing to believe that it wasn’t life telling him how much he deserved it for sleeping around or breaking other women’s’ hearts, or for just being a general asshole to everyone.

His hands were shaking as he slid down the wall onto the floor, feeling his breathing quickly decreasing as he hyperventilated as the panic started feeling like a brick in his chest.

Brian quickly knelt down in front of him, gently caressing the man’s shoulder. “Hey, look at me, yeah? We’re going to breathe together. Remember that exercise I taught you when you were in here before, just like this?” Roger weakly nodded, gasping violently for oxygen now. “Good, good. We’re going to do that right now because there’s no air getting into your lungs. Put your legs straight out in front of you, okay? No air is getting in when you’re crunched together like that,”

Brian helped his friend put his legs out in front of him, moving out of the way slightly so he could do this.

“Okay, good. Ready? Inhale… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Exhale, one, two, three, four, five, six seven, eight, nine, then, eleven…”

Roger had only made it halfway through both times, but he did it again, mentally counting along with Brian, this time making it to six and nine. His head felt like it was stuffed, ready to explode but he could feel oxygen getting into his lungs once again.

“Good, mate. Keep doing it, okay?” Roger nodded quickly, starting to feel exhausted again. “Good… that’s it. You’re doing great, Rog.”

The encouragement made the drummer calmer and start to think more clearly now. He made to seven and ten the third time and his sobbing had even calmed down. He roughly wiped his face and closed his eyes before he rested his head against the wall, exhausting creeping into his body from the panic attack, his limbs feeling heavy like it did the first time.

Brian gently placed a hand on the man’s knee. “Just relax, mate. We can stay here a few minutes longer. Are you feeling better?”

Roger nodded slowly.

“Good. Just keep breathing, Rog,” he waited a few beats before he talked again. “Dominque’s still back home. She wanted to make sure that you were okay. She really is worried about you.”

“S-Sorry,” Roger apologized softly, catching his breath again. “I think… there might be something wrong with m-me.”

Brian looked up at him, shaking his head. “I think you’re still dealing with what’s been happening to you with being jumped twice. It’s normal for someone in your situation, Roger. Maybe you just need to… talk to someone, you know?”

“Like who? A therapist?”

Brian shrugged. “Maybe, or maybe the uni counselor? It’s what they’re there for, you know. Maybe they can you something to help you relax a little?”

Roger wanted to argue about this but he just nodded instead, not having the energy to fight anymore. He did the breathing exercise again when he felt himself getting worked up.

“I’m sorry, Rog. I didn’t mean to get you worked up about it. I was just making a suggestion.”

The drummer opened his eyes and looked at him after a few minutes. “Were you s-serious earlier, when you told me she's still home? She didn’t leave when I said that to her?”

“I’m serious, Rog. She’s still there and we should go home before she loses her mind. She was really upset when you left. You’ll need to talk to her.”

The drummer nodded. “I know.” The las thing he ever wanted to do was upset her and he felt bad that he did. He held his hand out.

“Ready to get up?” Brian stood up and took Roger’s hand before helping him up as well, still hanging onto the man as he helped him out of the restroom and walked him outside again before hailing a cab.

By the time they arrived back home, Roger felt well enough to walk on his own. As soon as he entered the flat, he felt arms around his neck.

“Oh thank god, you’re okay!” Dominque greeted him worriedly.

He wrapped his own arms around her before he gently held her face in his hands and kissed her lips, lightly herding her towards the bedroom before he closed the door. He knew he needed to talk to her and explain his weird behavior.

“What’s going on, Roger? I was so worried about you! I wanted to go after you but Brian told me to stay here in case he couldn’t find you and you came back.”

He took her hand and led her over to the bed before he laid down, needing to lay down before his legs gave out from under him. She followed him, but sat upright beside him, still holding his hand and gently caressed it.

“I was jumped one night,” Roger closed his eyes, afraid to see her reaction or look of disbelief. “Some guy wanted me to… have sex with him and he tried to force me. I got away, but… only just. Some time later, I… saw this woman, Jess, and… I found out she was working with him. They’ve been stalking us and she told him the next time the band and I were going to be playing, and… he attempted to jump me again. He told me she had told where we were so that’s how I knew it was her.”

He finally opened his eyes and saw only love in her own.

“T-That’s really terrible, Roger a-and I’m so sorry that happened… but I still don’t understand why you would say you don’t deserve me and leave…?”

The drummer gently thumbed the back of her hand softly, finding that the motion helped keep him calm. “I thought what happened to me had been a sign that… I deserved to feel shitty. I felt like because you’re so beautiful and smart and… brilliant, that I don’t deserve someone like you because of all the awful shit I’ve done.”

Realization touched her eyes before she leaned down and kissed his lips deeply. “You didn’t deserve what that bastard did to you, Roger. You don’t deserve _any_ of it. I think you’re smart and amazing, talented and brilliant and… I think that it’s time you deserve something good in your life right now.”

Roger smiled up at her lovingly. He knew that Brian had told him something similar earlier, and it had meant a lot, but hearing the words come out of Dominque’s mouth made him want to believe it so much. He took a deep breath and relaxed.

“Thank you, Dom. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

“It’s the truth, Roger. I’ll always tell you the truth, my love,” she laid down beside him now and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Are you going back to sleep again?”

He looked over at her before he kissed her hair, breathing it in. “I had a panic attack with Brian earlier, and now I’m fucking knackered. You can go back home if you need to, though. You don’t have to stay here.”

Dominque bit her lip before she kissed his again. “I have an exam that I can’t make up. I promise I’ll drop by right after, if that’s all right?” She stood up and grabbed her own clothes.

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

“Great, do you guys mind if I use your shower real quick?”

Roger could definitely get use this kind of domesticity. “No, go ahead. It’s fine. Just make sure you lock it. We sort of usually had an open door policy around here.”

She smiled brightly but was still looking at him with concerned eyes before she walked out and down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

As soon as Roger heard the water running in the pipes, he saw John and Brian walk inside the room. He groaned. “Come on, I’m so bloody tired.”

“Freddie phoned,” John spoke. That got Roger’s attention. “He said that he ‘talked’ to the bartender and we have a gig at the Speakeasy tomorrow night. And he knows someone who knows someone and said that someone from EMI records might be there watching.”

Roger looked up at him in excitement and forced himself to sit upright. “No shit.”

“No shit,” John chuckled.

“Unbelievable. Where is Fred? Is he coming home anytime soon? We need to practice.”

Brian put his hands up to calm the drummer down. “Fred said he’d be home later. In the meantime, you need to rest. I’m off to classes for exams, but John will still be here if you need anything.”

“Oh John,” Roger teased. “You really do need a woman in your life.”

The bassist rolled his eyes, smirking. “One day, maybe. I’m okay with being a free man, though. Go on, Bri. I’ll babysit him.”

Brian laughed and looked at Roger. “Behave, don’t run off. I’ll see you later.” He got changed and then the two men heard him leave the flat.

As soon as the door closed, Dominque popped her head in, fully clothed and freshly showered. “Has Brian left yet? I was hoping to share a cab with him to the university.”

“If you hurry, you might be able to catch him outside,” Roger smiled. “See you later, Dom.”

She rushed in, kissed his cheek and then his forehead before she hurried out as well. John turned to Roger.

“Well, I’ll let you rest, then. Yell if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Deaky.”

The bassist smiled at him and nodded before he half closed the door on his way out, the calmer, more bluesy sounds of Led Zeppelin able to be heard in the flat as Roger fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. discovered

**.    .    .**

 

Roger slept until he heard the front door open and then close, waking him from his state. He rubbed his eyes sleepily but felt more energetic now that he had time to rest.

He got dressed into a t-shirt and walked out to the living room to see everyone’s instruments set up already. He glanced around but didn’t see Brian’s bag by the door yet.

“Good evening, Rog. I was getting worried about you,” John remarked as he walked over to his bass. “I was just going to check to make sure you were still breathing. You slept through the whole afternoon.”

Roger shrugged, shaking his head. “No, Deaky. I’m fine. I feel good, actually. Where is everyone?”

The bassist put the strap around his body and started to tune it up. “Fred’s in the shower and Bri should be coming home shortly from uni.”

Roger walked over to his drums and sat down, trying to wake himself up a bit more.

“Rog! You’re awake… I was so worried about you, darling! Deaky told me what happened. How are you feeling?” Freddie was dressed in his more laid back clothes, his hair clean and damp.

The drummer was tired of answering that question. He sighed patiently. “I’m great, Fred. Really. I’m ready to practice. Hey, you didn’t happen to see Dominque around when you got back, did you?”

Freddie walked into the kitchen and made a cup of tea, walking back into the living room where Roger was and handed the warm mug to him to help wake him up. “No, I don’t believe I did, but my money’s on Brian sharing a ride with her back here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Cheers,” the blonde thanked Freddie when he handed him the tea, setting it off to the side on a table. “All right, good.”

Just then, both Brian and Dominque walked in, instantly setting their backpacks down on the floor next to each other after closing the door.

“Are we late? Our exams both took longer than expected.”

“No, darlings,” Freddie smiled as he got behind his mic. “You’re right on time. I told Rog you’d be coming home with him, Dominque. What a wonderfully interesting name, by the way.”

She chuckled and went to grab her own tea from the kitchen. “Thank you, Freddie. Don’t let me stop you all. Go ahead and practice!”

Brian gave a warm smile to Roger and nodded in greeting before he slipped on his guitar. “All right, Rog?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, yes, I’m fantastic. Can we start already? I’m tired of pretending I’m a parrot after only being awake for five minutes.” Roger smirked to let them know he wasn’t actually angry, more eager than anything to practice.

“All right, all right, Rog, dear. Calm down. I would like to start with Zeppelin’s ‘Rock and Roll,’ and then go into ‘Keep Yourself Alive,’ Freddie announced, grabbing the mic out of the stand.

Roger groaned instinctively and the other band members turned to look at him, as if they had expected him to complain about whatever the singer wanted to do. When he looked up, he grew embarrassed quickly and took a sip of tea.

“Yes, Roger?” Deaky asked. “What’s on your mind?”

The drummer shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –"

“No, darling. Really, please do speak your mind now,” Freddie smiled softly. “If there’s a problem, I’d like to hear it so we can work through it.”

“It’s just,” Roger started. “Those are two drum heavy songs for me. I feel like my arms are going to bloody fall off. I think we should go into ‘Killer Queen’ after the first one instead, if that’s all right with you. Then we can do ‘Keep Yourself Alive.’”

Freddie looked around at the other men who raised their eyebrows in surprise but nodded in agreement. “Looks like you win this round, darling. Of course we can do that. Whatever’s easier on you, dear.”

“Thanks, Fred.” Roger really did mean it.

The guys began practicing their rough setlist, making changes where they had to or just agreeing to disagree on certain things. It was probably one of their most relaxed practices with limited arguing or storming off.

When they finished, they all were sweating and exhausted, but they all also felt good. Dominque clapped and cheered.

“That sounded great, guys,” she smiled. “They’re going to love you tomorrow.”

“Of course they will, darling,” Freddie smirked. “Who could not? Ready for bed, Deaks?”

John set his bass down and looked up in surprise at the new nickname, chuckling. “Yeah, suppose so. Night, everyone,” he waved and smiled before following the singer into the room to sleep.

Roger finished his now cold tea down, dying of thirst before he stood up and looked at Brian as Dominque came over and wrapped her arms around the drummer.  “Do you want me to sleep over at her flat tonight? Or out here?”

Brian looked confused at first but then blinked. “Oh, no. I’ll sleep out here. It’s not a problem.”

Dominque looked guilty. “You sure? I can just sleep out here alone if you two would prefer to sleep in the bedroom? I really don’t mind.”

Brian shook his head, looking genuinely okay. “No, it’s fine, guys. Take the bed. I’ll sleep out here. I really don’t mind either.”

“If you’re sure, Bri,” Roger offered, deciding to give him one last chance to change his mind. Brian gave them a wave towards the room before he grabbed the blankets off the back of the couch.

“Thanks, Brian,” Dominque smiled, taking Roger’s hand into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. She crawled into the guitarist’s spot in bed beside Roger and looked over at him as he relaxed in the bed.

“Back to sleep again,” she laughed. “My poor sleeping beauty.”

The drummer laughed as well and kissed her hair as he wrapped his arm around her lovingly. “It’s all right. After practice, I feel like I could sleep forever.”

She rested her head on his chest, over his heart. “I believe that’s called being dead, my love,” she whispered.

“Then I don’t want to sleep forever. I just want to be with you…”

She looked up at him and smiled, kissing his lips before she soon fell asleep on him. Roger gently caressed his fingers through her long hair, spacing out in thought.

If they did good tomorrow in front of the EMI guy, maybe they could finally get Queen off the ground. It would be the biggest gig of their careers, but no pressure.

 

**…… .. ….. .. …… … ……. .. ……**

The next morning had everyone taking turns in the bathroom to shave and shower. By the time Roger got a chance at it, the water was nearly ice cold, but he didn’t mind. Excitement raced through him, warming him up naturally.

This was probably the only day this week when they all were wearing proper clothes, from head to toe instead of pajama tops or bottoms for the whole day.

Freddie made all of them hot tea to warm their bones from the cold and dreary day. They spent the majority of the day together, laughing, joking, teasing, playing Scrabble games against each other, playing records, and roughhousing.

By the evening, they were all surrounding the telly but no one was really watching it. They were too busy talking.

“You missed your exams this semester, Rog,” Brian noted disapprovingly. “What are you planning on doing?”

The drummer took a sip of his fourth cup of tea, one arm around Dominque as she leaned against him. “I already gotten a hold of one of my professors. They’re going to let me do a make-up exam on Monday.”

“So you’ll officially be a dentist then, Rog?” John asked, leaning against Brian who didn’t seem to mind.

The drummer sighed and chuckled, shrugging. “I guess so. If I pass my exams, only on paper though. I don’t actually plan to do that anymore. I figured I made it this far; might as well finish it up.”

John nodded in understanding, finishing off his sixth cup of tea. “Sounds like a plan. What about you, Bri? Are you officially Dr. Brian May now?”

The guitarist smirked. “Indeed. If this whole rock star business doesn’t work out for us, I’ll be a professor of astrophysics, teaching it to students who are only a couple years under me.”

Freddie reached over and jokingly threw a pillow at the man. “Oh shut up, already! If I have to hear one more word about higher education or not making it big with this ‘rock star business,’ then I’m afraid I’m going to have to drop all of you immediately. I simply won’t stand for either such talk.”

Roger chortled, seeing a smile on Freddie’s lips curving upwards as he teased.  He planted a soft kiss to the back of Dominque’s neck and smiled, breathing her in.

“Are you nervous about tonight, Roger?” the young woman asked him.

The other men turned their heads to look at him, also curious about his answer.

Roger shook his head. “Not when I have you and them with me. No, I don’t think I’m nervous about it at all. I’m excited, actually. This is it, Dom. I can feel it.”

John smiled and looked at Freddie and Brian who had grins on their own faces. The singer set down his half-drunk cup of tea before he slapped his hands to his knees.

“I _do_ believe it’s time to head over there, gentlemen. Shall we?”

The others agreed, standing up as well but Freddie held out his arms to stop them from going anywhere. He turned to look at all of them with warmth in his eyes.

“I just would like to say something before we go…”

Roger scoffed and chuckled. “Oh, here we go. Another great Freddie speech. Let’s have then, Fred.”

The singer rolled his eyes and sighed before taking a breath. “I just want to say… it’s simply a waste of time to be nervous tonight, playing just like we’ve played anywhere else a thousand times. Even if EMI are a bunch of corporate hacks who wouldn’t know music if it bit them on the arse, we’re still a family. With or without a record deal, we’re still a family. Let’s not have high expectations tonight, everyone, but… promise me that if we do hit it big, produce a hundred records, make millions of dollars, promise me that we’ll never stop being a family, no matter what happens.”

The boys looked at each other like it was the silliest thing to promise, all of them shrugging and nodding.

“Yeah, promise,” Roger nodded.

“I promise, Freddie,” Brian agreed.

The singer turned to look at John who nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, of course. Sure, Fred.”

He looked over at Dominque expectantly who seemed surprised to even be a part of this. She smiled warmly and nodded as well.

“Yes, always.”

Freddie clapped his hands together and was grinning now. “Wonderful! Simply wonderful. Okay, enough of this business, time to make some music!”

They all loaded up their instruments and rode to The Speakeasy on Dalston Lane, spending the next twenty minutes getting their equipment inside and another fifteen getting it set up.

They tuned their instruments, Freddie taking the mic out of the stand as a preemptive strike before he had to waste time struggling with it during songs. He looked at Roger.

Roger took a deep breath and glanced over at Brian before seeing the singer eyeing him. “Ready, Freddie?”

“I was born ready, darling,” he smirked before he made it to the edge of the stage, waiting for the blonde’s intro.

Roger looked into the crowd, seeing Dominque in the very front, smiling lovingly at him before giving him a thumbs up. He winked at her, feeling confidence and adrenaline start surging through him at breakneck speed.

He started drumming the introduction to ‘Rock and Roll’ now, listening as John joined in with him before Brian also started playing on his guitar. He focused solely on the song, his love for it, as well as his love for his family who was playing here with him, faintly hearing Freddie start singing.

The men played in perfect harmony with each other, no one playing too fast or too slow but just right so the song flowed. As they ended the song, Roger heard cheers and whoops coming from the audience, followed by clapping at the cover of the familiar song.

Roger took the pause in between songs to quickly take a long drink of water and saw Freddie do the same, sweat already listening on their faces under the bright lights.

They went on to play the next four songs before they finally finished with ‘Somebody to Love,’ standing up and waving to everyone on the floor level as they cheered loudly, the sound almost deafening to Roger. He grinned and glanced at Dominque who was also grinning and clapping.

“Thank you, you wonderful people!” Freddie shouted into the mic, putting his arms up as they continued to clap, eventually dying down again so only the PA music could be heard again.

They started packing up again, each of them exchanging worried looks. Roger hadn’t seen anyone in the crowd who looked like he could’ve been an agent or an executive for EMI records, as far as he could tell. Maybe the bartender had just lied to Freddie to get him to sleep with him; maybe there was no guy after all.

They helped each other load the equipment back up just to get it done and out of the way so they could enjoy the rest of their night there and not worry about having to pack it up after a night of drinking. It was when they had just finished loading Roger’s drums back into the van and they were talking, trying to cool off again, when a professional looking man came out to them.

“Queen,” the man spoke, smiling as he took them all in. He started slow-clapping.

The men looked between each other before looking cautiously at the man, but it was Brian who spoke. “Yeah. I’m sorry, who are you?”

The man chuckled now before he held out his hand. “My apologies. John Reid, from EMI Records. It’s nice to finally meet all of you. It’s nice to see you all in person, at last. I’ve only heard things.”

They all took turns shaking his hand, straightening their backs. Roger feebly wiped his forehead on his arm, hoping he wasn’t too sweaty from drumming.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reid,” Freddie announced. “What did you think of our show?”

“Well,” he smiled. “I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I didn’t believe you all had something truly great to share with the world. I’d like to offer you a record deal, gentlemen.”

None of them were hiding their excitement now as they laughed elatedly and started hugging each other, Brian even picking up Roger and lifting him into the air before he grinned in disbelief. Roger hugged Dominque who looked as happy as he felt, pride shining in her eyes.

“Of course!” Freddie nodded quickly. “What do we have to do to make this official?”

John Reid took a card out and handed it to Freddie. “You can reach me at this number, Mr. Mercury. I’ll need you all to come in on a scheduled date and time and sign a few papers, and then we’re in business. You’re all going to do great things.”

Freddie smiled. “We’ll be in touch.”

The other man nodded to him before he said goodnight and walked back to his car. Once he had left, all the men hugged each other again before taking turns hugging Dominque. Roger felt his heart swelling with happiness.

It had happened. It had finally happened. No more seeing the Man. No more Jess. No more Sweeney tavern. No more university. They finally were recognized, and he felt like all the shit he had gone through had been worth it to reach this moment in time.

Dominque had been right; he did deserve something good happen to him, and he had it. Roger had her, would soon have fame, but most of all, he’d get to be with his family and play with them, and that’s all he ever really wanted.

His time had come. _Their_ time had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Comment if you did like it, or you can even comment and give me ideas for another Bo Rap fanfic! Totally your choice but I would love ideas. 
> 
> Thank you for all your comments, kudos, and bookmarking. It means a lot that you did all of that for my first Bohemian Rhapsody fanfic. I hope to see you around in future fics!


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